


Water Rise

by SpicedGold



Series: Waterfall [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Canon Timeline, Dark, Darker than the prequel, Fluff, M/M, Sequel to Waterfall, hurt/ comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: "Something had to go. Some source of pressure had to be released.Anbu, the coup, the clan, Shisui, his family. Sasuke.Too many pressures, too many hands in too many worlds."Tension is building in Itachi's life, with everything closing in all at once. Shisui assures him it will be okay, but as time wears on, it's harder to believe him. Their's was never a story meant for a happy ending.Sequel to "Waterfall", but can be read independently of it.





	1. The Calm

**Author's Note:**

> "Waterfall" established the relationship between Itachi and Shisui, but its events do not influence this story much if you haven't read the prequel.
> 
> This story is a lot darker than "Waterfall" was, so there will be very few happy moments, because these boys just can't catch a break.
> 
> Some author's assistance was given to me by my sister, I will acknowledge her in the chapters she helped with.
> 
> Please enjoy  
> SpicedGold

“All done, Itachi?”

Itachi flicked the blood off his sword in one smooth movement, before turning to the waiting Anbu team, Kakashi front and centre. “Yes, that’s all. There’s no one else.”

The team took a moment to talk amongst themselves, pleased at the ease of the mission and the fact that it had gone off without a hitch. Anbu missions were always tense, things got out of control quickly and often fatally, and a mission with no casualties, and no injuries, was always cause for a hearty round of accolades amongst themselves.

Itachi sheathed his sword, taking one last look around to make sure everything had been taken care of. Kakashi watched him shrewdly.

Itachi didn’t leave loose ends, and the Copy Nin had been keeping a close eye on Itachi’s performance lately, giving him more responsibility within each mission. He was hoping that soon Itachi’s progress would be recognised, and he would perhaps be assigned a squad of his own. Itachi would be a good leader.

With a small signal to his team, they left the area to begin the journey home.

Itachi followed at the back, slightly nervous. It was unsettling having things go so right.

It always made Itachi feel like something had to go horribly wrong soon, to keep the world in balance.

And when things went wrong for him, they usually went incredibly wrong. It had been, what, the last four missions that had been so easy and non-confrontational, and it was starting to wind him up into a tight coil of anxiety, because he knew life would hit the fan soon enough.

By the time they were back in Konoha, he had riled himself up, stomach clenching at the thought of the impending disaster to come, whatever it might be. And he apparently did not hide it well, because after he reported back to the Hokage (Kakashi had been having him handle that as well, for the last several missions), the old man stared at him with narrow eyes for a few moments, before asking quietly, “Itachi, what is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he replied respectfully, because nothing was. He was just _expecting_ things to go wrong.

“Your mission was successful. Nobody was hurt. But you are here before me looking as though it was a difficult mission with a lot of failure in it. So I’ll ask again – what is wrong?”

Itachi let out a slightly defeated sigh. “I just feel like this is the calm before the storm. Like everything is going too well, and it’s too tranquil.” He probably sounded like a paranoid lunatic, but he knew what the Uchiha were thinking, _planning_ , and it was making him anxious.

The Hokage considered that for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the young Anbu. He smiled a bit. “This is a time of peace. You are not used to that. Try not to stress yourself out about what may happen, but rather, take time to appreciate this moment of peace. It may not last long, but try not to make it bitter with worry when there is no reason to worry.”

“I will try my best, Hokage-sama,” Itachi said, closing his eyes briefly as he bowed, and feeling suitable chastised.

“I don’t doubt that you will.” Hokage smiled at him. “Go and spend a few days relaxing. There are no scheduled missions for your team for some time. I will let you know if I need you before then.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama.” Itachi bowed again, more briefly, before leaving the room.

 _Don’t wind yourself up_ , he thought, walking home in the afternoon sunshine. _Everything is fine._

And so far, it really was. The burning tension that had been between Itachi and his father had . . . eased . . . slightly. Itachi wouldn’t say it was gone, but it was certainly much better than it had been. Missions had been going well, training had been going well. He had been able to spend more time with Sasuke recently. And his private life had been . . . relaxing.

The mere thought brought a soft smile to his face.

Shisui was only due back late that evening – Itachi would probably only see him in the morning – but after several days apart Itachi couldn’t help the flutter of anticipation that sparked low in his belly.

The only thing wrong was the increasing murmurs amongst the clan, words being thrown around that made Itachi’s insides quiver, words like ‘revolt’, ‘coup’, ‘rebellion’.

War.

So far there had been nothing but murmurs, rumours, but sometimes after clan meetings Fugaku would look at Itachi, eyes narrowed, and Itachi knew that something would happen soon. There would be consequences, there would be actions and reactions. The world would balance itself out, and the fact that Itachi’s world was so blissful right now made him terrified that it would be torn asunder by karma, shredded into tatters and set on fire in front of him.

The coup had to stop. He knew that much, because if it went ahead, and there was war, he would have to choose a side. And choosing would be near impossible.

The village, or his family?

He loved them both. He wanted them both. The mere thought of losing just one was agonising, and he was still winding himself up the whole way home with his macabre thoughts, nearly jumping out of his skin when his mother greeted him as he stepped into the house.

“Itachi?” she asked, frowning slightly at his behaviour. “Is everything alright?”

He considered before answering. It was. Everything was fine. Nothing was wrong – yet. “Everything is fine.”

Mikoto studied him carefully before nodding slightly. “Okay.” She didn’t sound like she believed him, but he couldn’t blame her for that. He didn’t believe himself either.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, walking passed her. It was fairly early in the evening, but he was tired, from _so many_ _things_ and he wanted some time to himself to just think, and try to organize his scattered thoughts. He did not look back to see Mikoto’s face.

His room was peaceful, a place where, usually, he would relax and all the pressure of being himself would fade away. But lately, that pressure had been following him, pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t escape it.

Itachi lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to find some course of action for the future that he could be happy with. Preventing a war would be priority number one. He could live with any other decision – he hoped – as long as Konoha didn’t fall under attack.

What if the coup went ahead? How many would die?

What about children, like Sasuke, innocent children who had no idea there was even a whisper of discontent amongst the clan? What about people like his mother – who didn’t want to fight, were out of practice and maybe not able to defend themselves as they should be?

There were innocent children in Konoha too.

His head hurt. It had been nagging at him for days, a little burning point of pain between his eyes. He tried to ignore it, but it was just like every other facet of his life. It wouldn’t go away.

Nothing would.

 

He was not completely asleep, but dozing with his eyes closed and senses dulled, body and mind both too exhausted to stay alert anymore, but the sound of the window opening snapped him fully awake, and he sat up. He almost rolled his eyes. “I thought you weren’t coming over tonight.”

“Changed my mind,” Shisui whispered back breezily, hauling himself through the window and landing softly in the dark room. “It’s not much fun being at home on my own.”

Itachi automatically moved up in the bed, making room for the older boy.

“You look tired.”

Itachi sighed, settling back down as Shisui lay next to him. “Yes, well, working does that.”

“Sarcasm does not suit you.”

The corners of Itachi’s lips twitched up in amusement.

“Want to sleep?” Shisui asked, one hand running idly up Itachi’s side.

“It would be ideal.”

“But?”

“But . . .” Itachi’s dark eyes look strained. “I can’t. Not with everything going on. I can’t control it all, and I can’t find a solution for everything.” His head still hurt. Everything hurt. The hollow black hole in his stomach was back, and it hurt, just enough to be noticed.

Shisui’s breath tickled his eyelashes. “Yeah. I know. I want it to end as much as you do.” One hand rested on Itachi’s side, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

“I want . . .” Itachi began, but then he trailed off, because what did he really want? And even if he could put it into words – was it truly what he wanted? Or was it what the clan wanted? What his father wanted? What Anbu wanted? Did he even have his own thoughts anymore?

“Tell me what you want,” Shisui whispered, kissing softly at Itachi’s neck.

Itachi heaved another sigh, dark eyes slipping closed. “I want too much, and I can’t have it, so it doesn’t matter.”

“If it matters to you, then it matters to me,” Shisui said. “Tell me what you want, so I can try to make it real.”

“I want to sleep,” Itachi mumbled, one of his hands catching Shisui’s as it wandered further down his body.

“What else?” Shisui asked, nipping gently at pale skin.

Itachi paused to think, because these were not little demands. That which he wanted in life was not something that could be handed over by anyone, or even achieved by just anyone.

“Tell me,” Shisui encouraged again.

“I want our time to never end. I want to have you by my side forever. I want to protect this village, and our clan. I want to know that Sasuke will have a better future than I had. I want to be strong enough to stop the war, and make sure Konoha has peace as long as I’m in it and fighting for it.”

“Big demands,” Shisui mused.

“Yes.” Itachi pushed his head into Shisui’s chest, snuggling into the warmth, unconsciously trying to block the world away.

“Maybe between the two of us,” Shisui said, arms around Itachi to hold him close, “We can make all that happen.”

“How?”

“We’ll find a way. There’s nothing we can’t do.” Shisui smiled. “Just wait, one day we’ll wake up, and there will be no more coup, no more threat of war. Sasuke will never have to worry about his clan revolting again. He’ll never have to wonder if something will go wrong amongst the Uchiha. You’ll never have to listen to the rumours, or try to change your father’s mind. You’ll never have to choose a side. Everything will be exactly as you want it.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Uchiha Itachi,” Shisui answered surely. “You’ll make your own path, and it’ll be the right one.”

 _What if I don’t know which one is the right one?_ Itachi thought. He closed his eyes against the thought. It was too much to handle right now, too much to consider and comprehend. “I want to sleep,” he repeated, and this time Shisui caught his true intentions.

“Okay,” the older boy agreed softly, voice barely a whisper. Red eased into his eyes, and Itachi looked at him with blind trust, giving his mind over completely. It was a familiar process, sliding into Itachi’s mind and putting him to sleep, something they had done many times over the months they had been together.

There was no resistance from Itachi, well-practiced now in letting his guard down, and within seconds his eyes had begun to close again, and Shisui drew him in close.


	2. Frivolity

Neither of them had missions scheduled for the next day. It was one of those rare days where Itachi didn’t have to stress about anything, where Shisui wasn’t running himself ragged with his pressing schedule. One of the days that had been thought long gone in the depths of their childhoods.

Shisui was determined to take advantage of it.

“We have no idea when we’ll ever get another day like this,” he had made his case at breakfast, just the two of them sitting at the table since Sasuke had left for school already, and Mikoto was out running errands. “Let’s use it properly.”

“Doing what?” Itachi sounded remarkably light, trying to hide his excitement at a day of no worries, but Shisui saw right through his attempt, and grinned.

“Like we used to. Let’s go training, and then go to the waterfall. Or, we could have lunch in town. I know a few good places.”

“Waterfall,” Itachi decided. A day as precious as this needed to be savoured, and he didn’t want to share it, or Shisui, with anyone else. If they had lunch in Konoha, people would want to speak to them.

“Done,” Shisui agreed instantly. “I’ll teach you Shunshin this morning.”

“I already know it.”

“But you suck at it,” Shisui said brazenly. “Come on, you need to practice. You never use it, and I know it’s because you’re not good at it.”

Itachi lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, not able to deny Shisui’s accusations. “I haven’t had much time practice it.”

“Well, today we can,” Shisui looked very self-satisfied. “We also need a few rules for today.”

Itachi raised an eyebrow.

“This is a no-work day,” Shisui explained, eyes bright and smile even brighter. “So, no talking about Anbu, or the clan, or the coup. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good,” Shisui sprang to his feet. “Then let’s go. We’ve only got one day to ourselves, let’s not waste it.” He yanked Itachi upright. “I’ll race you to the training grounds.”

 

“Itachi?”

“Hm?” Itachi made a questioning sound, not moving from where he was sprawled across Shisui’s chest.

“Nothing. Just checking if you were still awake.” Shisui’s hand wound idly through Itachi’s hair. He looked up at the dappled sunlight filtering through the tree above them, shifting a little bit to lie more comfortably against the tree trunk.

The waterfall tumbled nearby, the only noise for the last hour or so. After training, and a friendly argument about Itachi’s proficiency (“That was the worst Shunshin I’ve ever seen.” “It was fine.” “Turn your Sharingan on.” “It is on.” “Then it’s broken, because dead ninja can move better than that.” “Please, prove it.” “What do you- hey, Itachi, no, that’s not fair – OW!”), they had made their way to the waterfall to eat lunch, and had since settled against the big tree, with Itachi laying into the curve of Shisui’s side, closing his eyes, and drifting off into a half sleep.

“I’m awake.”

“Good,” Shisui shifted a bit more, until he was able to get a hand under Itachi’s chin and lift his head up for a light kiss. Itachi pressed back eagerly.

It had been a few weeks since either of them had had the energy to do anything more than a few lazy kisses and equally lazy touches, and Shisui’s heart beat increased at Itachi’s willing response. The hand in Itachi’s hair tightened slightly, tugging a little – and Shisui knew Itachi would never admit to liking that, but he did – and Itachi whined softly against his mouth.

Shisui pulled back with a slight groan. “Come on, you know I can’t stand it when you make that sound.”

There was no apology in Itachi’s smile. Shisui gazed at his eyes, soft and tender, and was struck by just how beautiful Itachi was, and how so very in love he was. The little worried line between Itachi’s eyes, which had been present for weeks, had finally left.

Shisui sat up a bit more, turning his body and pressing Itachi down onto his back. Itachi lay down without resistance, the ethereal soft smile still on his face. He brought his hands up to Shisui’s shirt, only to have them pushed away and pinned above his head, as Shisui swung a leg over him.

“That’s not fair,” Itachi said, unconsciously pouting slightly, and trying to tug his hands free.

“I’m not trying to be fair,” Shisui replied. He pressed his weight down, face cracking into a grin when Itachi automatically canted his hips upwards to meet the movement. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m not ‘cute’.”

“You are,” Shisui leant down, lips brushing teasingly against Itachi’s. “You’re cute, and perfect, and so gorgeous, and I would strip you down and take you right here if you weren’t so paranoid that someone would see.”

Oddly, Itachi only picked up the insult in Shisui’s sentence. “I’m not paranoid.”

“So that’s a yes then?” Shisui quirked an eyebrow, absolutely loving the pink tinge on Itachi’s cheeks.

“No,” Itachi sounded aghast. “Anyone could see.”

“Exactly.” Shisui’s teeth took hold of the side of Itachi’s neck, coaxing an involuntarily squeak from the younger boy. “Want to go swimming?”

“What?” Itachi’s answer was slightly breathless, mind snapping from Shisui’s words to the way he was pressed heavily into Itachi’s lower body. “Swim?”

“Yes.”

“Is that,” Itachi choked out, thoughts derailed somewhat when Shisui’s mouth sucked on his neck. “Just an excuse to get me out of my clothes?”

“Possibly.” Shisui kissed him once, then sat back a little, eying him quizzically.

Itachi’s eyes were wide and dark. “Let’s go swimming.”

 

They stumbled home with blithe smiles and sparkling eyes, Shisui grappling for a hold on Itachi’s hand – the younger boy disliked affection where others could see it, but Shisui was persistent, and didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer unless it really mattered.

The smooth wooden porch surrounding the house was bathed in sunlight, and Itachi sat down with the most ungraceful thump Shisui had ever seen from him, pulling Shisui down next to him since their fingers were still entwined. Itachi tried to extract his hand, but Shisui just laughed softly, drawing it to his mouth and kissing Itachi’s knuckles gently.

Everything felt so light, so free – so young.

Shisui hadn’t felt like a kid for years, and he knew Itachi certainly hadn’t, but the day had been so perfect, so carefree, that he felt like a bubbling young child closer to Sasuke’s age than his own.

Itachi finally finagled his hand away, a rush of breathless laughter leaving him – and Shisui thought that was the most beautiful sound ever, because when was the last time Itachi laughed? When was the last time he had fun?

“Happy?” Shisui asked, dark eyes looking into the equally dark depths of Itachi’s.

Itachi ducked his head down, feeling slightly embarrassed at being caught in such a frivolous mood. He nodded slightly, mouth quivering with the effort of not smiling.

Shisui, however, had no such qualms about letting emotions show, and he was grinning broadly, hands travelling to Itachi’s shoulders, body angling slightly, to pull him closer for a quick kiss on the cheek, – heart thumping at the way Itachi’s eyes scrunched closed in ill-concealed delight – then on the mouth when Itachi stayed predictably still.

Within seconds, Itachi’s hands wandered to the front of Shisui’s shirt – he liked to hold on, to feel like he had a grip on reality, on Shisui – pulling them against each other, chest to chest, and willingly allowed Shisui to do whatever he wanted with lips, teeth and tongue.

They sprang apart in an instant when they heard Fugaku approaching, home for the evening; Shisui grinning sheepishly and Itachi’s cheeks burning as he stared at the ground.

Fugaku gave the boys a rather disapproving glare as he walked passed, but said nothing.

“Afternoon,” Shisui supplied, never able to keep his mouth shut.

Fugaku grunted, disappearing into the house.

Shisui shrugged, and slung an arm over Itachi’s shoulders, pulling him closer again. He leaned in for a kiss, but Itachi turned his head away, staring rather uncomfortably at the ground. Shisui sighed. “Your father knows, it doesn’t matter.”

“Sorry.” Itachi shook his head. “I can’t when I know he’s watching. He hates us together.”

“He’s not watching. He actively avoids us when we’re in the same room.”

Itachi shook his head again, lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Okay.” Shisui heaved another sigh, removing his arm from his cousin and leaning both palms on the smooth wood below him. He stared at the sky. “Do you ever regret us?”

“What? No,” Itachi sounded horrified. “Not at all.”

“Okay,” Shisui tilted his head so he could watch the younger boy. “Feels like it sometimes. Like you regret what we have. Like you’re ashamed of it.” It wasn’t a fair accusation; Itachi had made it quite clear that he loved Shisui and was willing to fight for their relationship even if it went against his father’s wishes.

But even though he was devoted to Shisui, absolutely smitten, he knew his father did not approve of them together, and it still hurt. It still _burned_ , because Itachi’s heart was torn in two directions.

“I’m not . . .” Itachi looked floored. “Not ashamed.” But his stomach knotted, because maybe he was. When Fugaku was around, Itachi couldn’t help the guilt that tore at him. The light-hearted mood fled, and the familiar aching dread settled in his gut again. “I just . . .”

“What we have,” Shisui said, before Itachi could stammer any more. “Is _ours_. It’s for us. Remember? You wanted this. You chose this. You were the one who wanted it to be _more_. Do you remember the first night we almost-“

“I _know_ ,” Itachi interrupted. “I know it’s ours, and I _do_ want it. I really do, but . . . It’s complicated.”

He sounded so forlorn, so lost, that Shisui’s heart softened. He closed his eyes briefly.

“Remember how we started? Remember what we were?”

Itachi nodded slowly.

“This didn’t start because of love, or romance or anything else like that,” Shisui said. “It started because it was something we both needed. Because our lives are so messed up that we needed something that was actually enjoyable. And you fought for us, you wanted us to stay together. It didn’t matter what your father thought.”

“But it does!” Itachi sounded desperate. The day seemed far away by now, just a dream within his endless nightmares.

“Since when do you care what other people think?”

“Not other people. Him. And you. It was one thing when he didn’t know, it wasn’t so hard then. Yes, it scared me, and I was terrified he would find out, but it was okay because he didn’t know. Now he knows, and he _hates_ it. He hates the thought of us together, and I don’t know if I can live with that. I hate the way he keeps looking at me – like I’m the biggest disappointment he’s ever seen.”

“I don’t know what his problem is, maybe he thinks you’re too young, maybe he thinks we’re not serious about it, hell, maybe he’s just straight up homophobic,” Itachi winced at that, because he didn’t know how to process and accept it. “But, Itachi, that shouldn’t matter. We need this. We need each other. Don’t you?” Shisui trailed off, suddenly sounding small and unsure.

Itachi bit his lip. “Yes. Yes, I do, of course I do. I can’t imagine life without you with me.”

Shisui let out a breath. “Okay. Thanks, I think I needed to hear that.”

“I’m sorry.” Itachi ducked his head down, avoiding Shisui’s eyes. “I’m sorry if I make it seem like it’s not worth it. I just . . . I don’t know how to handle being a disappointment.” Because all his life, Itachi had been exceptional. Everyone had acknowledged that, he made people proud. He did the right things. He made the right decisions.

And to have his father – the person he idolized and respected most in the world – upset with him was something he couldn’t accept. It was so foreign to his nature, to everything in his life so far. He had destroyed his father’s opinion of him, and although he knew Shisui was worth it, some days it was hard to remember that.

“You’re worth it,” Itachi muttered. “Don’t think you aren’t. But . . . It hurts . . . when he looks at me like that.”

“But you’re still with me,” Shisui prompted. “You didn’t break it off. You didn’t turn away. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be pleased.”

Itachi let out a loud breath. “Because even though it hurts . . . you make it better. And the things you make me feel, the good things, outweigh the things that hurt. You will always be worth it.”

Shisui nodded, his breath shuddering slightly. That was probably the only thing he feared in life at this point – that Itachi would want them to stop seeing each other, because the pressure from his father was too much. To hear Itachi say it – _“You’re worth it.”_ – was something Shisui desperately needed. He needed something to help keep him together, something to snuff out the fear of Itachi turning his back on him and never looking back.

“I need you too, you know,” Shisui said, and this time when he put his arm around Itachi the younger boy did not try to edge away. “So much. I love you, more than anyone else in this world. And losing you is all that I fear.”

A faint smile ghosted Itachi’s face. “I never fear that. I know you’d never leave me.”

“And I know you wouldn’t want to leave me either. But,” Shisui said, and Itachi’s smile left. “I’m still scared that it won’t be your decision. Because you always do what’s good for everyone but yourself. That martyr complex of yours is going to cause trouble one day.”

“You’ll be there,” Itachi said, one hand entangling with one of Shisui’s. “To keep me on the right path.”

“Forever,” Shisui agreed. He stared at the sky, at the sun just beginning to make its way down to the horizon _. I hope._


	3. Set In Motion

Itachi was asleep, one hand twisted tensely into the sheets.

Shisui lay beside him, eyes wide open, unable to settle down. He watched Itachi breathe, the little crease between his eyes was back, and he had a death grip on the sheets. It saddened Shisui to see him so tense, even when sleeping. This was the time he was supposed to be relaxed.

_I’ll try to help_ , he promised silently. _I’ll try to get rid of all the things holding you down._

The coup was foremost in his mind. They needed a plan to get rid of it, and so far, all attempts had failed. Shisui wanted Itachi to speak to Fugaku, making the case that he was more likely to listen to his son than the Uchiha he favoured the least at the moment. (The relationship between Fugaku and Shisui had become rather strained since Fugaku discovered Itachi and Shisui’s physical relationship.)

Shisui, for his part, was trying to find allies against the coup, hoping that if he could turn the majority of the clan onto his side, the coup would not go ahead.

Whatever happened, he wanted Itachi to stay out of it as much as possible. The boy was already strung too thin, and he had fiercely loyal ties to both his clan and to Konoha, and the thought of being forced to turn against one of them was gnawing at him constantly.

Shisui sighed, and at the sound Itachi jerked in his sleep, moving unconsciously closer. Shisui shifted onto his side, laying an arm over Itachi, and to his relief the tense grip Itachi had on the sheets loosened a fraction.

“You’re so tired,” Shisui whispered. “You’re working too hard. For too many people.” Shisui’s own schedule was hectic, but even he had less on his plate than Itachi. He had no idea how the young prodigy was still performing at his peak; he was certain he would have collapsed from exhaustion weeks ago.

But, that was Itachi. He would relentlessly forge on, through any task, any hardship, his own needs and wants always coming second. It was something Shisui both loved and hated about him.

Because Itachi would never say no, to any mission, no matter how impossible it might sound.

“But if I need you,” Shisui said softly, speaking into Itachi’s hair. “I can always count on you. You can do anything, and if I ask, I know you’ll do what needs to be done.” He pressed his lips softly onto Itachi’s head. “You’re so perfect, and you don’t even know it.”

Itachi twitched a bit. He was a light sleeper, but not an active one. It was usually Shisui who flopped and flailed all night long. Itachi remained relatively still, so any movement usually meant a nightmare. As was common these days, Shisui lit his Sharingan, pressing his forehead to Itachi’s and gently easing a peaceful dream into his mind.

Itachi lay still again.

For a moment, Shisui lay undecided, eyes burning red and chakra humming. If something went wrong, if they couldn’t stop the coup, there needed to be a Plan B. Shisui already had one, and he knew Itachi wouldn’t agree to it. His Mangekyou swirled into existence.

He could place a genjutsu on Itachi now. He could make sure that no matter how difficult the path Itachi would have to walk, he would take it. He could make sure Itachi wouldn’t second guess him. He could guarantee the results he wanted, manipulate Itachi’s mind at his will, and Itachi would never know. He would never suspect.

There was a gentle, childish softness to Itachi’s face. Whatever dream he had created from Shisui’s illusion was clearly peaceful. With a small sigh, Shisui placed a chaste kiss against Itachi’s forehead, and his eyes faded to black again.

He would not place Itachi under any sort of genjutsu. He would not force Itachi to make any decisions, and he would not take away Itachi’s free will.

He wouldn’t need to.

He knew Itachi would do anything he asked.

So he had to make sure he planned everything just right.

 

Itachi dragged himself home from his mission several days later, blinking away sleep.

He was completely uninjured, but thoroughly exhausted. There wasn’t time to rest, though. He knew another mission would be coming soon, and he needed to be ready for it.

No one was home when he trudged into the house, shedding clothing mechanically and standing in a dazed stupor in the shower. The hot water felt good, it eased his tired muscles. He stayed there for longer than usual, enjoying the sensation of warmth, until he finally woke himself up enough to stop the water, dry off and dress.

He had the afternoon free, and fully intended to spend it training – he had felt like his defensive manoeuvres were sloppy on that last mission, and he couldn’t take the risk of getting injured due to his own foibles. But first he needed something to eat, or he would collapse, and that would be even worse.

“Yo.”

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard Shisui’s voice, fully believing he was the only one home. “ _What the hell_ , when did you get in here?”

“Someone’s a bit tense,” Shisui grinned, standing smugly in the kitchen. “I brought lunch.”

Itachi stared at him.

“Thought you might want something hot,” Shisui explained. “So I got some ramen. Yes, the yucky cabbage one you like.”

Itachi raised an eyebrow. “It’s not ‘yucky’.”

“It is,” Shisui said firmly, sitting down at the table and shifting a carton across the smooth wood towards Itachi. “I even brought dango, although you shouldn’t eat so many sweets. You might get fat.”

Itachi’s expression was both offended and mortified, and Shisui burst into laughter.

“I’m kidding. We can work it off later.”

“I do need to train,” Itachi said, starting somewhat cautiously with his lunch.

“I didn’t mean work it off like that, but sure, whatever.” Shisui shrugged. He studied Itachi shrewdly as he ate, noting the slightly slower than usual movements. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Itachi answered promptly.

“Hm.” Shisui did not look fully convinced, but he let the issue drop.

They finished eating in silence, only breaking it when Shisui refused to give up the last stick of dango. (“Why would you buy an uneven number when you know there’s two of us?” “I’m bigger than you, I need more calories.” “I work harder than you!” “You want it?” spoken through a hastily grabbed mouthful, “Then come and get it.” A pause. “Oh, you did get it.” “Missed a bit.” “Mmhm.”)

After a brief scuffle on the kitchen floor, Itachi finally extracted himself out from under Shisui and made his way to the training grounds. Shisui followed close behind, face slightly worried. Itachi had not been as sharp as usual in their small kitchen fight.

When Itachi finally stopped at his chosen spot, Shisui cleared his throat.

“You sure you want to train?” Shisui asked, absently throwing shuriken into a circle pattern on a nearby tree. “You look like you could use a rest.”

“We should train,” Itachi said, blinking hard a few times to try to clear his head. Anbu had been warned to expect an increase in missions. Itachi needed to make sure he was still in top shape. Mistakes weren’t an option.

“We _should_ ,” Shisui said pointedly, “But maybe we should also sit down under the tree, snuggle and make out a bit, and then take a nap.”

“As enjoyable as that sounds,” Itachi said, throwing a shuriken to complete Shisui’s circle, “I need to focus. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Meh,” Shisui shrugged. “Fine, but I still think making out is a good way to end training.”

“It has proven quite effective for the last few months.”

“Yup,” Shisui grinned. “Ready?”

Itachi nodded.

“Cool.” Shisui barely finished the word before flitting from view, leaving Itachi to almost roll his eyes as they lit up to red. Shisui’s lax attitude towards training sometimes annoyed Itachi, but he was used to it, and he fell into a defensive stance almost lazily, waiting to see where Shisui’s first attack would come from. His voice flitted down, seemingly from all directions at once, “Rules for this fight are no genjutsu, okay?”

“Okay.”

There was another second of silence before the whistle of flying shuriken sounded, and Itachi deflected them all with a hastily drawn kunai. The next wave came from behind him, and Itachi spun around to block those too.

They fell into a familiar rhythm, of attack, block, dodge. Shisui was subtly trying to move Itachi, and Itachi knew it, and was trying to keep his position, because that was the whole point, being able to hold himself where he chose to be and not be influenced by outside forces.

He could feel himself slowing down, his stamina had never been good, and he was so tired, but he had to keep going. Giving up was never an option. He managed to deflect Shisui’s next barrage of shuriken, moving unwillingly from where he had been, and the kunai that whizzed passed him into a nearby tree was shockingly close to his face.

He noticed the exploding tag on it a fraction later, mind working faster than his body, and he dived away from it later than he should have, ducking and rolling to safety, scrambling to his feet a little slower than he wanted, and the next set of kunai came at him before he was ready again.

They hit the tree in quick succession, one of them lodging into wood just above his head, the second almost brushing skin and pinning him by the sleeve, and the third thumping its way into the space between his other arm and body, also pinning through his shirt.

It was a shockingly close call, and the danger of it didn’t really register until he heard Shisui yelling.

“What the _hell_ , Itachi, I almost shredded you!”

Shisui ripped the three knives from the tree, anger dissipating once he saw that Itachi wasn’t hurt. Not physically, at least, but he was avoiding eye contact at the embarrassingly rookie mistake of not being able to dodge something as basic as a hurled kunai.

“You’re exhausted,” Shisui pointed out. “I could have killed you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” Itachi kept his eyes down, nursing his bruised pride.

“Not on purpose, no, but we both know you’re able to dodge that easily.” Shisui put a hand on Itachi’s shoulder, and the younger boy finally looked up, eyes pained. “You need a break. You need to rest.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you don’t sleep properly unless I’m there with you, but I can’t be there every night. You’re going to work yourself to death, and it’ll come fast and hard, you know that. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take some time for yourself.”

“I can’t,” Itachi insisted.

“Why not? Why can’t you ask for a few weeks off, before you kill yourself?” Shisui’s voice was growing angry again. “Your father found out about us because you were too tired to notice him. You got hurt on a mission because you were too tired to dodge. And even though it wasn’t your fault, I know you still blame yourself for how badly I got hurt because you thought you weren’t fast enough. So that’s three mistakes in the last few months, three mistakes you’ve made because even you have limits and you need to relax and stop working for a change.”

“I _can’t_!” Itachi shouted, backing away from Shisui. “You don’t understand, I can’t stop. I can’t tell him!”

“Your father?” Shisui snapped. “You can’t tell him that you’re going to die on the next mission because you’re only a kid and you can’t handle this amount of work? Is that it? Why can’t you tell him?”

“Because I’m supposed to be perfect,” Itachi snapped back. “Everything’s meant to be easy. There’s nothing I can’t do. I can’t disappoint him again . . .” He trailed off, stomach twisting in sudden fear. “He can’t know. No one can.”

“So you’d rather die for no reason than tell your father you need a rest?” Shisui sounded appalled. “Itachi, that’s idiotic. I’ll tell him if I have to-“

“No,” Itachi shouted. “You can’t tell him anything, it’s not your problem.”

“ _You’re_ my problem,” Shisui shot back. “Because I’m not going to stand by and watch you die because you were too stubborn to admit that you’re only human and not a machine.”

“Just leave me alone,” Itachi yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at the sides of his head, because the whole world suddenly ached. “It’s not your choice, just leave me. I don’t need your help. I’m fine. I can do it on my own.”

Shisui’s eyes narrowed. His voice was low, dangerous. “Fine. I won’t say anything. But if you slip up, if you make one more mistake,” he spoke through gritted teeth, fists clenched. “I will do something about it. Anything it takes.”

There was a grim silence between them, then Shisui turned on his heel and stalked away.

Itachi waited, wanting to get some distance between them. His stomach was clenching again, he was getting used to that. It didn’t discomfort him like it used to. It felt normal, as though life, with that twist of anxious remorse, was supposed to be that way.

He edged home wearily, mind feeling numb. He needed to talk to his father. Maybe, just test the idea of taking a break. See what his father thought about it. Maybe just mention that he was a bit tired, and maybe, _maybe_ it would be a good idea to take it easy for a few days.

Or weeks.

He wanted to rest so badly.

Fugaku was home when Itachi returned, and the boy peered nervously into the room, heart hammering because he couldn’t be weak. He wasn’t weak. Ever. “Father?”

“Hm?” Fugaku looked at him. “Itachi? What do you need?”

“I just want to talk.” Itachi crept into the room like a beaten animal. He looked unsurely at the floor. “I’ve had a lot of missions lately.”

“Yes?”

“I’m tired. It’s been a hard few weeks.” _Please, please help me. I need help._

“Everyone has been working hard.” Fugaku mused, wondering where Itachi was going with this.

“Shisui . . .”

Fugaku’s eyes narrowed in a slight frown. “Shisui, huh? You and him again.”

There was the burning disappointment that felt like acid on Itachi’s emotions. He almost winced, but took a shuddering breath in and continued to doggedly make his case. “We were talking . . . He said maybe I . . .” _Maybe I need help. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much for me._ He swallowed hard.

“Itachi.” Fugaku came towards him, laying a hand on his shoulder and Itachi’s eyes snapped upwards in surprise. “You look stressed.”

He nodded slightly.

“This . . . thing . . . with Shisui. Maybe it’s gone on long enough.”

_What?_ Itachi started to shake his head.

“I allowed it, because at the time it seemed like it was helping you,” Fugaku said, and his voice was more gentle than Itachi thought it would be. “But that seems to have stopped. You have not been yourself lately. I think that Shisui is not helping as much as you think.”

“What do you mean?” His voice wavered slightly.

“Your mother said you were more relaxed after spending time with him. And, for a while, that was true. But the last few weeks it hasn’t been helping. You are not looking well. I think that whatever you and Shisui were doing has served its purpose. It’s run its course. I think it’s time to move on.”

Itachi shook his head again, but there was a flicker of doubt sitting deep in his chest.

“You’re tired all the time,” Fugaku continued. “And I don’t think spending time with Shisui is helping. Whatever you two are doing,” Fugaku sounded disapproving, “It’s probably not helping you sleep.”

Itachi half shrugged, unsure what to say.

“It’s time to focus on your work. You’re one of the best shinobi the Leaf has ever seen. You should focus on that. Shisui is taking your attention away from what’s important.”

Itachi nodded, feeling thoroughly defeated. He had nothing to say in his defence.

“I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re a good ninja, and a good child. It’s time to concentrate on that. I know you’ll make me proud.”

And just like that, all Itachi’s remaining resolve crumbled. He could quite happily collapse onto the floor right there and bawl his eyes out, but he stayed quiet. He stayed stoic, because he was a ninja, and an Uchiha, and he would make his father proud.

He gulped in a breath, his lungs felt tight. He had to work to keep his voice steady. “I will talk to Shisui.”

Fugaku patted his shoulder gently. “Everything will be fine.”

_No, it won’t._ “Okay,” Itachi agreed brokenly. He turned away, wanting to spend some time alone, to gather his thoughts and figure out what on earth he could say to Shisui.


	4. Something's Got To Give

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here until the end, this story is pretty much depressing angst. So if anyone is reading this for the humour, it has left us and will never return. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this. This chapter was hard to write.

Something had to go. Some source of pressure had to be released.

His mind was swirling, thoughts tangled and tearing into each other, until he didn’t know where one ended and another began. He needed to let something go in his life, because he was stretched too thin. Everything was pulling him apart.

Anbu.

The coup.

The clan.

Shisui.

His family. Sasuke.

Too many pressures, too many hands in too many worlds. Maybe Fugaku was right. Maybe Shisui wasn’t as good for him as he had been. Maybe Shisui was causing a problem. They hadn’t been together much lately, anyway. Itachi had been busy, stressed, uninspired and brilliantly disinterested in anything physical.

Shisui was angry at him anyway, about the incident when training. About a lot of things. Maybe he just didn’t want to say anything, but maybe he wanted some space as well. Maybe Shisui wanted a break, because Itachi had no doubt that he wasn’t very pleasant to be around right now. He had been snapping at Sasuke, at his parents, not because he wanted to, but because it was too much, and it felt never ending.

His heart ached at the idea of breaking things off with Shisui. They had fought to keep what they had. Itachi had defied his father for this relationship, had scarred Fugaku’s opinion of him, probably forever, and at that reminder Itachi’s chest felt tight.

_“It’s time to focus on your work. You’re one of the best shinobi the Leaf has ever seen. You should focus on that. Shisui is taking your attention away from what’s important.”_

Was that true? Was Shisui more of a hindrance to who Itachi needed to be?

Itachi didn’t know, and not knowing the answer made him more anxious. There was never a question he couldn’t answer. He always had an answer, always had something.

_If you don’t know, maybe it’s true_ , he thought grimly.

_“I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re a good ninja, and a good child. It’s time to concentrate on that. I know you’ll make me proud.”_

That was the clincher, wasn’t it? There had been a black hole sitting in the pit of Itachi’s stomach for months. If Fugaku thought this was the right thing to do, maybe it was. And it would make him happy.

It would make him _proud_.

_It’s what he wants_ , Itachi thought. It didn’t matter what Itachi wanted, that never mattered. Other people mattered. If he broke it off with Shisui, his father would be happy. Proud. And Itachi wouldn’t be frowned at, and scowled at, and something would have lifted.

Maybe the pressure would fade.

Maybe the crushing guilt would leave.

Maybe Itachi wouldn’t feel as though some disaster lurked behind every corner.

It wasn’t a decision that made him happy, but it seemed like the right one. Fugaku was usually right, and Itachi hoped he was right in this situation, even if Itachi thought he wasn’t. But it didn’t matter, it never mattered, if Itachi thought it was right or wrong. It was just another thing he had to do.

He rolled off his bed, taking a moment to just stand and gather himself, because he felt sick; absolutely nauseous with the thought of what he had to do. But it _must_ be the right thing, even though it felt so incredibly wrong.

He trudged through the house with heavy steps, finding his parents sitting quietly together and talking in low voices.

“I’m going to talk to Shisui,” Itachi said softly, carefully avoiding looking anyone in the eye.

Mikoto nodded. “Okay. Is everything alright?”

He had to pause, to swallow hard, before he could answer. “Everything’s fine.”

Mikoto looked at Fugaku, eyes slightly narrowed. Fugaku stared back calmly. He volunteered nothing, and Itachi was already walking away with his head down.

Itachi didn’t want to move, but he made himself. He was good at doing things he didn’t want to. Because those things would help people in the end.

Sometimes he wished he was allowed to help himself.

 

Shisui was at the training grounds, almost mindlessly practicing.

Itachi stopped to watch him from a distance, feeling his heart pounding with sick anticipation of what was to come. He didn’t know how to say it. But he had to.

Shisui noticed him, and flickered over, a bright smile on his face, skin slightly shining with sweat. “Hey-“ His expression shut down when he caught sight if Itachi’s face. “Are you okay?”

Itachi looked pale, unnervingly so, and Shisui was immediately concerned that something terrible had happened.

Itachi stared at the ground, hearing nothing but the blood rushing in his ears, and he felt sick again. He struggled to focus himself, eyes down, and finally decided to just get it over with.

“I,” Itachi bit his lip. “I think we should . . . stop seeing each other.”

There was a pause, a heartbeat, and a silence that seemed to last forever.

Shisui stared. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It had to be a joke. Or he heard it wrong. He must have heard it wrong. Because Itachi would never . . . they had worked so hard for this . . . He wouldn’t . . .

Itachi looked at him with nervous curiosity, the lip still clenched between his teeth, his black eyes looking haunted.

Shisui’s brain finally processed Itachi’s words, and he began shaking his head, slowly, still trying to convince himself that this was all a terrible dream. “. . .  No.” _You don’t want this. Itachi, I know you, you wouldn’t . . . you don’t . . ._

Shisui couldn’t focus his thoughts; he was too thrown. Caught completely off guard by the one situation he never thought he would have to face.

He noticed when Itachi’s eyes shined with moisture. The younger boy took in a deep, shuddering breath, and repeated with a bit more clarity, “I want us to stop seeing each other.”

Shisui continued to shake his head. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. This couldn’t be real, he couldn’t accept it. A cold lump of dread settled in his gut, almost making him stagger under its sudden weight. “Itachi, no . . . You don’t want this. You can’t do this.”

“I am doing this,” his voice was wavering. “It’s over between us.”

“It’s not. It can’t be.” His voice shook too, he felt cold suddenly. His heart thumped. His eyes burned. “Why?” he croaked, because he deserved a reason at least. This had come from nowhere, no warning, no signs, no _anything_. “Why would you . . .?”

Itachi shook his head, eyes tightly clenched, and a few tears shook loose and flew to the ground. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t. I just . . . I just want to be left alone.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to . . . it doesn’t have to stop,” his voice was getting higher, desperate. “Please, I need you.” _Just like you need me. We’re in this together, always_. Breathing was hard, the lump in his throat stealing away precious oxygen.

Itachi shook his head again, whole body trembling. When he looked up there were tears streaming down his face. “No. I can’t. I’m done.”

Shisui reached out a shaking hand, he didn’t care why, he just needed to reach, to feel, to make sure his nightmare was real.

Itachi stepped back from his outstretched hand, biting his lip again, still shaking his head automatically. “No.”

“Don’t run away,” Shisui pleaded. “Please, don’t leave me. Don’t run away.”

Itachi took a few more steps back, turning his body away. He shook his head once more, the gesture looked like a huge effort that drained him of all further energy. He walked away, eyes cast down, fists clenched at his sides.

Shisui did not follow. He didn’t think he could. He was swallowing hard, over the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him, and his vision blurred as eyes filled. _It’s a dream,_ he thought. _It has to be a dream._

Itachi did not look back.

_It’s not real. It can’t be real. It’s just an illusion._

 

Shisui staggered home, heart crushed and head pounding, and pressed his face into his pillow so he could howl in peace, without waking the entire clan. Once his eyes ran dry, he picked up his kunai pouch, headed back out to the training grounds, and battered himself and everything around him until his body felt numb.

But his mind didn’t. It still screamed in pain. Even though he was exhausted, and practically out of chakra, he was still replaying the night over and over again in his head. And screaming, and kicking, and hitting things, and that just told him one thing.

This was not an illusion.

It was real.

His worst nightmare was real.

 

When Itachi walked home – he had taken a long route, needing time to regain his composure and let the tears run their course – Fugaku was sitting on the edge of the deck overlooking the Koi ponds, seeming deep in thought.

Itachi half hoped he could slip by unseen, and he probably could if he really tried. But he was too tired to bother, too exhausted and emotionally drained. He made his way up to his father, not saying a word.

It was obvious he had been crying.

Fugaku sighed slightly. “Come and sit down.”

Itachi obeyed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand again. They felt raw.

“It was a difficult day for you.” Fugaku watched the fish roll through the water.

Itachi said nothing, the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him.

“But I do think it was the right decision.”

_Of course you do, you hated me and Shisui together._ Itachi felt his lip quiver.

“Not just for me. I think it was right for you too.” Fugaku looked at Itachi when the boy shook his head, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched on his lower lip. He considered the boy’s downcast expression for a moment, before lifting an arm and putting it around Itachi’s shoulders, drawing the boy close.

Itachi swallowed hard, trying to convince himself that he was out of tears, and out of emotions. But it was rare for Fugaku to show such affection and Itachi felt so vulnerable at the moment.

“I’m proud of you.”

Itachi turned his face into his father’s shoulder with a sob, feeling thoroughly betrayed by his body as it trembled and more tears formed and spilled forth. He didn’t want tomorrow to come. He didn’t want to have to face it. He gulped down another sob, trying _so hard_ not to let it show. He didn’t want to look weak.

Fugaku squeezed his shoulders a little, and gently rubbed his hand on Itachi’s arm. He didn’t say anything, and Itachi was grateful for that. He didn’t really want to hear anything. He just wanted life to stop for a bit, until he could catch up.

Until he could accept what he’d done.

 

Getting up the next morning was near impossible. Itachi stayed where he was, lying in bed, until the last moment he could before dragging himself up and leaving without breakfast. He didn’t think he’d be able to eat anyway. He wasn’t sure he would be able to work.

But he needed to put it out of his mind, get himself focused on something else. On life, on missions. He needed to squelch down all the emotions swirling loose inside him, before anyone could question his behaviour.

“What’s the matter with you?”

He clearly wasn’t as good at concealing as he thought he was. “Nothing,” he murmured, pushing passed Kakashi with his eyes firmly trained on the floor.

“Clearly.” Kakashi followed the boy into the Anbu locker room.

Itachi wished he wasn’t being followed, because Kakashi had an irritating habit of noticing things.

Kakashi watched Itachi for about five minutes, while the boy checked his weapon pouch to see what he had available, and then fidgeted with his sword in the hope that Kakashi would leave, and when that failed to work he just stared back at him in utter silence.

“You’ve been a little on edge lately,” Kakashi observed. “If it gets to the point where you start jeopardising missions-“

“It won’t,” Itachi said resolutely. “It won’t get to that. I will make sure of it.”

Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed. “I’ll be watching.”

_Thank you_ , Itachi wanted to breathe. But he stayed silent, barely nodding acknowledgement at Kakashi before leaving the room. He had duties to do that day, and he wasn’t going to dwell on life at home. That had to be put aside for now. He swallowed down his feelings, so many of them crowding in his throat and dancing behind his eyes, and tried to focus on something other than his crumbling self-control.


	5. Eruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my little sister, who helped write/ loudly act out the fight scenes for this chapter. She would like everyone to please note that there is a vase of flowers on the front desk in the Konoha Police building, but we were unable to find a coherent place to add this arbitrary detail. As such, I added it to this note so her odd creation could hopefully be fully experienced.

The door to the Konoha Police Force building was flung open with astounding force, everyone in the room automatically drawing weapons as a single kunai was hurled across the room and hit the wall next to Fugaku’s deadpan face.

Every ninja turned to the door, ready to defend, and were met with the unadulterated rage of Shisui, Sharingan eyes blazing.

“What,” he snarled, eyes on Fugaku, “Did you say to him?”

Fugaku met his gaze calmly, his own Sharingan glowering in defence.

“What the hell did you say?” Shisui advanced, steps hurried and forceful. “I know it was you, it wouldn’t be anyone else.” He was right in front of him, raw anger oozing from every pore.

Fugaku met Shisui’s incensed gaze grimly. “I do not have to answer to you.”

Shisui was not satisfied with the answer. His eyes flashed, and he balled one hand into a fist, drawing it back and punching, hard, at Fugaku’s face.

The elder Uchiha blocked it with a forearm, eyes narrowing, and within an instant Shisui flickered out of existence, reappearing behind Fugaku and throwing another punch. This one landed with incredible force, driven by chakra and molten fury, and Fugaku was flung through the air, coming to a skidding halt outside the Police Force building.

He stood up slowly, watching warily as Shisui flickered in front of him. Before Shisui could prepare another attack, Fugaku hurled a kunai at him, momentarily distracting him, and allowing the older to gain some distance, hands already flashing through seals. Shisui’s Sharingan eyes recognised the order, and he quickly did the same, his superior speed allowing him to catch up, and both Uchiha lit their Katon: Goukakyou no Jutsu at the same time.

Shisui was stronger, that was never a question, and he could feel his fireball overpowering Fugaku’s. With tense satisfaction, he felt Fugaku stop, and Shisui cut his fireball off, eyes searching through the haze of flames. Three kunai came flying at him, and Shisui jumped lithely to the side.

He felt motion to his left, and looked back just in time to see Fugaku appear blindingly fast, kunai raised and about to plunge into his neck. Shisui ducked, forcing his body back, and swung his elbow with brutal force into Fugaku’s gut.

Fugaku disappeared with a ‘poof’ into a cloud of smoke, and Shisui cursed. _Shadow clone_. He should have seen that. The mistake cost him a cracking blow to the back of the neck, and as his body was plunged towards the ground Fugaku raised his knee and slammed it into Shisui’s stomach.

Shisui doubled over, gagging and winded, but he had the energy and the awareness to flicker away, reappearing to Fugaku’s left, slightly above him and swinging to land a kick that sent the older Uchiha tumbling away, throwing up dust as he skittered across the ground, unable to right himself immediately.

Shisui closed the distance between them, running recklessly forwards, blind with anger, and jumped over Fugaku’s first set of shuriken, another fireball bursting from his lips. He saw Fugaku flit away before the fire could touch him, and a kunai was ready in Shisui’s hand, as he twisted his body to deflect the next onslaught of shuriken.

The sound of metal hitting metal was loud and bright, and Shisui landed with the kunai raised defensively, eyes searching for Fugaku’s chakra. He found it, swirling amongst the dying flames, and threw his weapon with all the force he could muster, instantly following after it with a body flicker.

Fugaku met his rush head on, blocking Shisui’s attack, and another clone came from behind, seemingly from nowhere. Shisui twisted away to nullify the clone, only to have another grab at him from a different direction.

He continued to fight, heedless of the people around, watching, of the whispers and the shouts.

Fugaku paid them no attention either, focusing solely on Shisui, red eyes looking for any opportunity to get in, and do damage.

 

Kakashi’s lazy sit down in a tree outside the Anbu locker room was interrupted by excited shouting. He glanced down, wondering what the commotion was about. Word was spreading enthusiastically, and Kakashi waited to see what happened.

Itachi and the Anbu team he was working with that day were present, and it seemed like the news was being sent towards him in rapid succession.

Kakashi picked up a few words, something about a fight, and Shisui and Fugaku.

 _Interesting_ , he thought.

 

When word of the fight reached Itachi’s Anbu team, the young prodigy did not react the way Kakashi expected. From his perch outside, keeping a wary watch on the boy, he was able to see the full reaction from the moment it was blurted out to him.

And he expected anger. He expected Itachi to rage away, to flare his eyes red and go to fix the problem – whatever he thought it might be. He did not expect Itachi to nod politely, and wait until the other shinobi had left the room, and he thought he was alone, to drop his face into his hands and slump against the lockers, letting his body slide heavily down onto the floor.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the unusual reaction. He waited to see what Itachi would do next.

The boy remained where he was, hunched over, and Kakashi could see his fingertips were white in his hair, muscles clenching tightly in despair. Kakashi watched his shoulders heave a few times, an uncharacteristic show of unkempt emotion. And after Itachi had remained in that position for several minutes, Kakashi stepped in.

Itachi jerked his head up the instant Kakashi entered the room, instantly defensive, until he saw who it was. His dark eyes fell back to the floor, followed by his head slumping towards his chest in a heavy gesture.

“You’re not going to do something?” Kakashi questioned. “Thought you’d be keen to break it up and play peace maker.”

Itachi’s arms wrapped around his knees and pulled them to his chest. He looked so vulnerable that Kakashi’s expression softened slightly, and he dropped his slightly teasing tone.

“I don’t know what to do,” Itachi barely whispered.

“Sitting there probably isn’t helping,” Kakashi pointed out.

“I can’t.” Itachi hid his face again, his voice sounded rough. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Kakashi wondered if he’d heard that last part right. “Come again?”

“I’m fine,” Itachi said, slightly louder. He got to his feet again. “I’ll sort it out.”

Kakashi’s gaze was critical. “You sure about that?”

“Of course,” with grim determination etched onto his features, Itachi met Kakashi’s gaze without fear. “I have everything under control.”

It was the best lie he could tell himself.

 

Itachi was angry, and it wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He was angry that Shisui had decided to go to Fugaku, and initiate a battle of all things. He was angry that Fugaku had fought back, because surely he would have known better, and Shisui was much more powerful than him. And he was angry that he was getting angry, because it meant that the entire situation was getting to him, setting him on edge, pushing him away from the mask of perfectly emotionless shinobi that was getting harder to maintain.

So he didn’t stop to ask questions. He didn’t stop to assess the situation, to see which side was winning, which was losing, and what the best course of action would be. Instead, he acted on pure, irked instinct, flying over rooftops, and hurling two kunai before he was even half way to the ground.

One blade flew through the air and slammed into the ground just in front of Fugaku, causing him to freeze in his movement, eyes snapping up to find where the weapon had come from.

The other went with astonishing accuracy through the sleeve of Shisui’s shirt and into the wooden pole behind him, pinning him for a few seconds while Itachi landed between them, Sharingan flaring as hot as his anger.

He said nothing. He didn’t need to.

Fugaku’s eyes faded to black again, and he and Itachi shared a long, hard stare. He looked winded, dishevelled, and Itachi wondered vaguely how serious Shisui’s fighting had been. Without changing his expression, Fugaku turned away and walked back towards the Police building, stiffly and not without some amount of pain, leaving Itachi to turn his fury to Shisui.

The older boy had wrenched the kunai free, throwing it to the ground, eyes up and locked onto Itachi’s.

The young Anbu stormed up to him, feelings conflicted, because he didn’t want to be angry at Shisui, but at the same time, Shisui had attacked his father (Not entirely unprovoked, but _still_ ). The whole situation felt so surreal, and Itachi didn’t know what to do with himself.

Shisui was an easy target, standing warily, eying Itachi as though unsure of his reaction.

“What were you thinking?” Itachi snapped, eyes still red and blazing.

“You’re mad at _me_?” Shisui sounded incredulous.

“Yes!” Itachi shouted back. “Because you were being an idiot. Do you never think about your actions?”

“Yes! I was thinking ‘How could Fugaku be so underhanded and such a jerk’!”

“And you didn’t think attacking him was the stupidest decision anyone has made in the last decade?”

“No, that was you _last night_ ,” Shisui snapped back, voice volatile fire, and Itachi recoiled as though slapped.

He stared at Shisui, and Shisui noticed him paling slightly. That was a nerve hit, and it just proved Shisui’s next point.

“It wasn’t your decision,” Shisui continued, sounding slightly calmer. “It wasn’t what you wanted.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“Because you _told me_ ,” Shisui said, voice rising again.

Itachi frowned, unable to find a comeback to that, because it was true. Shisui knew him inside and out, knew everything about him, every thought, hope, dream. He hesitated, unsure of what to do next. His anger was still riding high, and he wanted to run away. Fighting with Shisui felt foreign, it made his stomach twist and his chest feel tight. It hurt, and he was hurting enough.

He needed some distance, he needed to calm down. Being angry wasn’t good, it wasn’t an emotion a ninja needed. Angry people made rash decisions. (Like attacking the head of the clan.)

He turned away, and took half a step before his progress was halted by a violently hurled kunai.

“Do not,” Shisui said darkly, “Walk away from me again.”

Itachi looked back over his shoulder, anger flaring again. “Shisui. Don’t stop me.”

“I will not watch you walk away when I know you don’t want to,” Shisui said forcefully. “Face me, and tell me what you need to say. You will not run away like a coward.”

“Coward?” Itachi’s eyes flashed. “Is that what you think I am? I’m trying not to make the same mistakes you just made, by turning my anger towards someone else.”

“You’re running away,” Shisui said, almost shouting, and his tone made Itachi feel defensive. “From all your problems. Well guess what, Itachi, you can’t outrun this. You can’t outrun me.”

Itachi turned, ready to jump away, and in the next moment Shisui had flickered in front of him. “Don’t,” Itachi growled.

“If you go, I will follow,” Shisui promised grimly. “So face me.”

“Not now,” Itachi said, trying to turn the other way, only to have his path blocked again by a blur, a flicker, and Shisui’s red eyes. “Shisui, let me go. I am not dealing with you now.”

“You’re not running either.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. Itachi ran through his options. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t feel ready to talk. The wounds of last night was still too raw, he just needed some space, some time. Tension was building again, stacking into a perilous tower inside him, and if Shisui pushed again, it was sure to come tumbling down. “Let me go.”

Red eyes met red. Shisui’s narrowed. “No.”

That was the last push. The anger bubbled over, because Itachi felt trapped, by every facet of his life, and now also by the one who had always been freeing, rather than smothering. He threw the first punch, all his rage spilling out into that first movement, but Shisui’s quick eyes saw it coming, and blocked it with a fist of his own.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Itachi snarled, although every movement of his body stated otherwise.

“If you truly want to run away, then you’ll have to go through me,” Shisui challenged.

 _Fine_ , Itachi snapped in his mind, teeth gritted. He snatched his fist back, ducking low and ramming an elbow into Shisui’s gut. It wasn’t a conventional move, but his goal was to get out, not to fight fair.

Shisui’s arm hit the back of Itachi’s head, momentarily throwing his balance off, but it was all Shisui needed to spin around, throw Itachi to the floor and pin him down. He might have won outright there, except that he had pinned Itachi down enough times by now (Usually with more pleasurable intentions) that the younger boy had figured out how to break his hold. He did so with a violent twist and heave of his body, even managing to get a leg forced into Shisui’s side at the same time.

It took Shisui by surprise, and he fumbled for a second, his next attack slightly clumsy, but no less powerful, rounding on Itachi and slamming his head down into the ground. Itachi tasted blood, probably split his lip, but he ignored it in favour of grabbing and sending two shuriken into Shisui’s nearby thigh, using the subsequent curse of pain to put some distance between them, and prepare for Shisui’s next attack.

They were relatively evenly matched – although Itachi knew that was due to familiarity rather than skill, because Shisui had always been better than him and they both knew it. But anger played a role, and Shisui wasn’t fighting like he usually did. He was sloppy, his usual finesse traded in for furious blows, but the pattern was still familiar and Itachi was able to deflect, dodge, and stay out of range when needed.

Shisui figured out that his usual moves were not going to work, since Itachi knew him too well; they had been training together for years, fighting alongside each other for countless missions, and he had never faced Itachi in anything more than a friendly sparring match, and now he was discovering that Itachi was more polished and skilled than he had estimated.

Within moments, Shisui was close again. Itachi blocked his kick, red eyes narrowed, but he had not expected Shisui to swing an arm and bring his elbow cracking onto Itachi’s brow at exactly the right force and angle to split skin.

Blood poured from Itachi’s face, running down over his eye, and he realised in less than a second that Shisui’s goal had been to effectively blind him. He flicked his head once, sending blood flying, and then he felt absolutely furious.

If Shisui wanted to fight dirty, that was what he was going to get. Shisui noticed the change in Itachi’s demeanour, and his Sharingan slowly began swirling to its four pointed Mangekyou state, but Itachi was faster, angrier, and before Shisui was ready the younger boy locked his eyes onto his cousin, and Shisui was snapped into a genjutsu.

Ordinarily, he would be able to negate it, or break it, within seconds. But ordinarily Itachi wouldn’t immediately have immobilized him, locking down his every thought, muscle, and intention. He glared, mentally fighting back but Itachi’s hold was absolute, and it made a slight tremor of fear run through Shisui. When had Itachi become so strong?

The tremor of fear became full blown panic when he felt his whole body _burn_ , under Itachi’s steel hard control, and he felt himself being thrown to the ground, feeling like he was imploding in on himself, every fibre of his being on fire.

He would have screamed if he hadn’t been paralyzed. He would have fought back in sheer desperation if Itachi wasn’t holding his mind still. And he realised then, that if pushed in just the right way, Itachi was undefeatable, capable of almost anything.

The thought was a hollow comfort.

Itachi’s genjutsu snapped away with a powerful, electrifying jolt, and Shisui gasped for air as he was released, lying bonelessly on the ground while his scrambled mind reformed. He turned his head to the side, watching Itachi warily, but Itachi didn’t move again.

Itachi blinked through the blood. He could taste it on his tongue, bleeding lip still oozing.

Shisui’s eyes were red, narrow, awash with anger, but for now he lay still, chest heaving. He said nothing.

Itachi wiped the blood from his face with one hand, trying to ignore the fact that it was trembling slightly. He met Shisui’s eyes guardedly, ready for any further attack, but all he saw in Shisui’s face was bitter betrayal.

He turned away, head held high despite the ache of all his muscles. He felt the blood drip from his chin.

He thought Shisui might have said his name, but he didn’t turn around to check. He just continued walking away, not looking back.


	6. Changing the Future

Shisui dragged himself home, the feeling of pain lingering over his body. He flopped face down onto his bed, uncaring of the blood still running off his leg, just feeling exhausted and needing to rest, to catch up with the day.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the deadly glowering red of Itachi’s Sharingan eyes – more powerful than he had ever imagined.

 

Mikoto didn’t ask why there was a still bleeding cut on Itachi’s eyebrow when he sat down for dinner that night, and Itachi didn’t volunteer any information. Fugaku would probably explain to her later, anyway.

The room was tense, with Itachi’s face set in a frown, eating carefully because his lip was split and all his food tasted like blood. Fugaku had sat stiffly, unused to Shisui’s level of skill, and Itachi was more than certain that, had he not intervened, Fugaku might not be at home with them right now.

Shisui’s passion had always bubbled close to the surface, and it was usually something Itachi greatly admired about him. Right now, it was infuriating.

“Nii-san, are you okay?” Sasuke finally asked, after Itachi had grimaced at another mouthful of bitter, coppery food.

“I’m fine,” he answered.

Both parents stared at him.

He was so tired – of being stared at, of being questioned, of being himself. Life was spiralling out of control, and control was one thing he coveted. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Why did you get hurt?” Sasuke asked, and at Itachi’s questioning eyebrow raise, he added, “You don’t get hurt. No one is stronger than you. So, what happened?”

“Everyone gets hurt,” Itachi said softly. “It was nothing important.”

Sasuke stayed silent after that, and the meal continued without further conversation.

After supper, Sasuke ran outside to play, and Itachi took the opportunity to corner Fugaku in his study. He didn’t want Sasuke to interrupt, or overhear, and he had a feeling the conversation might get heated. “Father?”

“Hm?” Fugaku acknowledged him with a stiff grunt. “I suppose you want to talk about Shisui.” Fugaku’s tone implied that it might be a mistake.

Itachi shook his head. “No. The coup.”

 Fugaku looked tired beyond his years. He nodded, heavily, the gesture laden with many things. “Sit down.”

Itachi obeyed.

There was silence between them. Itachi’s eye throbbed, the cut above it was a well delivered blow and it was hard to ignore in its tenacious ache. He wondered who would speak first.

Fugaku heaved a deep sigh. “Itachi. The coup is not a decision we have come to lightly.”

_But it’s still wrong._ Itachi didn’t voice the thought. He waited for his father’s explanation.

“This clan has been living in the shadows for years.”

“That’s what shinobi are.”

“Not in this way,” Fugaku said sharply. “No, we were cast aside, thrown to the very edges of our own village, rounded up like cattle and penned in on all sides. Konoha surrounds us-“

“They _protect_ us,” Itachi interrupted, in a voice half way between a shout and whisper, a harsh rasp of defence.

“They are _watching_ us,” Fugaku said, words firm. “They spy on us – because they don’t trust us. We have been isolated because we are mistrusted, the village harbours ill will towards us because of the Nine Tails’ attack. They do not protect us – they monitor us. They watch us. Like lab rats.”

There was no rebuff Itachi could make to this because it was true. He remained silent, tight-lipped, and mentally counting all his Anbu missions that had involved just that – _spying_ on his own kin.

“We are under surveillance,” Fugaku said. “No other clan is. No other part of Konoha is. It is only us – we are outcasts of this village. We do not belong with them, and they do not want us with them.”

“The solution is not to attack,” Itachi said quietly. “There must be other ways.”

Fugaku’s stare was hard. “Tell me then. Tell me another way, because I have spoken to the council, more than once. I have always wanted a bloodless revolution, but it will not happen. It doesn’t matter how much I will it, Konoha is not willing to listen.”

“And you think they’ll accept you after you attack, and overthrow their government?” Itachi’s voice rose slightly, anger bubbling close to the surface. “It only condemns us more.”

“They _will_ accept us,” Fugaku said, his anger easily matching his son’s. “Because we will be in a position of power. We will make them accept us. We will bring things back to the way they were.”

“You want to dictate to the village-“

“It’s what they are doing to _us_!” Fugaku roared, body rising slightly as though to stand.

Itachi froze.

“I do not feel we as a clan are better than they are.” Fugaku settled again. “But we are equal – and that is what we are fighting to achieve. It’s all we want, Itachi. Just to be equal. It’s not a threat on the village.”

“You will overthrow them by power,” Itachi stated. “There will be bloodshed. There will be threats.”

“That is why I need you,” Fugaku said, and Itachi both thrilled at and dreaded those words. “You work close to the Hokage. Your position in Anbu makes our revolution easier. We can get where we need to be, close to the source of the problem, with no blood, and no violence. You know everyone in Anbu, you could incapacitate them if needed. You know their strengths, and their weaknesses.”

Itachi said nothing. That, too, was true.

“With you at my side, we can make it peaceful. We can regain our dignity, and our position within the village. Itachi, this coup will happen.”

“But it will not happen without violence. The clan wants it. They want a fight. And you are not trying to stop them,” Itachi said. “You are encouraging them.”

“If it comes to a fight,” Fugaku said, eyes narrow and expression dark. “Then we will be ready.”

Itachi hung his head slightly. “It _will_ be a fight, and you should not be encouraging it. It’s up to you – as clan head – you can tell them to stop. You can change their minds.”

“Itachi. I wish you could see. It’s not as simple as that. This is not something that only you or I could stop.”

“I will find a way.”

Fugaku looked at him solemnly. “I hope you do. But until such a time – this will happen.”

Silence fell upon them again. It felt hard, the air pressing in too closely, and sitting opposite his father in the dimly lit room, Itachi realised they were on opposites sides of the coup. They were on opposite sides of everything.

 

The wound above his eye had stopped bleeding, but it had bruised dramatically overnight, and Itachi frowned at it’s purple half-moon shape over his eyebrow.

There wasn’t anything to be done about it, and he shrugged it off, dressing as usual and preparing to leave. He was skipping breakfast, trying to get out the house as quickly as possible, sliding out the back door silently and making his way to the Hokage building faster than usual.

All he wanted was to get out of Konoha, to go anywhere that didn’t have this same tense atmosphere about it. It was inescapable. Tension between him and his father, over Shisui’s actions the day before, and their conversation last night – a _failed_ conversation, Itachi had been unable to sway Fugaku into cancelling the coup. Tension between him and Shisui – the first real fight they had ever had. Tension amongst the whole clan, with the coup hanging over him like a black cloud; one that he could not get rid of, no matter what he tried. Just tension, everywhere, and it was winding him up, because he knew it had to all come undone eventually, and the impending disaster made him sick with worry.

And Anbu, the mission schedule was unreal. He was doggedly moving from one task to the other, barely finding any breathing room. He knew his family had noticed; his mother had suggested more than once that maybe Anbu was taking its toll on him. But everything he did was necessary, and he couldn’t give any of it up.

He had heard his parents talking late at night, when they thought he was asleep. Fugaku said he was behaving ‘strangely’. It was just one more thing to add to Itachi’s forever growing list of things he needed to attend to. The rest of the clan eyed him suspiciously whenever he walked amongst them with his Anbu mask, as though unsure if his loyalty lay with them, or with Konoha, and that bothered him because the clan and Konoha should be one and the same. They shouldn’t be different, they shouldn’t be at odds with each other.

He was deep in thought when Kakashi interrupted him, with a gentle word.

“Itachi?”

He whipped his head up, instantly on the alert. “Yes, Kakashi-san?”

“You seemed a bit lost,” the Copy Nin tilted his head slightly to the side. He’d taken a liking to the young Uchiha almost since he met him, pleased at Itachi’s quick fire abilities and willingness to learn, to improve. But working so close to him, for a few years, had made Kakashi realise that not everything was running smoothly in the genius’s life. Itachi had been on edge, faltering slightly. It was barely noticeable, but it was Kakashi’s job to notice it.

“I’m fine,” Itachi replied automatically, because that was the only acceptable answer.

“I know.” Itachi was always ‘fine’. If he wasn’t, then nothing else could be fine, and Itachi placed the wellbeing of the village ahead of his own. If he wasn’t ‘fine’, Konoha couldn’t be either. But it was worrisome. Kakashi had seen it before; geniuses finally snapping under the pressure, going off the deep end. He had his own private thoughts about Itachi, and from what he was seeing, Itachi didn’t have far to go.

Thank god for Shisui, because Kakashi was fairly certain that it was the other Uchiha’s presence and intervention that was helping hold Itachi’s sanity together. Although . . .

Kakashi observed the bruise over Itachi’s eye. Maybe things weren’t as peaceful between the two of them as he had previously imagined. “How’s Shisui?”

Itachi shrugged.

_Interesting answer_ , Kakashi thought. There wasn’t anything to be done about it. He turned away, knowing Itachi would follow, as obedient as ever and ready for the mission, whatever it might bring. “Itachi?”

“Hm?” The answer came with a haggard look, pure exhaustion lining Itachi’s face, because he was waiting for yet another task to be placed on his shoulders, another thing that needed his full attention. Another thing to hold, to protect, to keep.

“Don’t forget what matters,” Kakashi said softly, because he thought maybe Itachi needed the reminder. “Don’t forget the village.”

Itachi looked mildly startled. “I wouldn’t . . .” He hesitated, eyes flicking back and forth. “I will not betray Konoha.”

Of that much he was certain. Whatever came, he wouldn’t turn against his village.

“Good to hear,” Kakashi said, then, with a lazy gesture, he was his usual self again. “So I’m putting you in charge for this mission. Show me your amazing leadership skills.”

Itachi nodded. “Yes, Kakashi-san.”

At least this was something he could do, something he could control. Kakashi explained their mission once they met up with the rest of the team, and then happily handed his role of leadership over to Itachi. It didn’t bother the young Uchiha; he had a feeling Kakashi wanted him to take on more responsibility. This mission felt like a test, though, but at the end of the second day, as they returned to Konoha with the sun setting behind them, he was more than certain he had passed.

He was proven right the next day, as Danzo summoned him specially, and informed him that he was to be made Captain of his own Anbu squad. At the time, Itachi had said nothing to indicate his true feelings, but he knew. He knew Danzo was up to something.

When the two ninja working with him had spoken to him, the unending thread of paranoia had reached out, settled into their minds without their knowledge, and Itachi’s carefully laid genjutsu was implanted into their brains, sitting idly until the moment Itachi needed it.

The next evening, he finally had a moment to himself, after several days of back to back, endless tasks, and he was able to escape the prying questions of his father – so pleased he’d been promoted because it meant access to more secrets, more information, and Itachi was just a helpful little pawn in the game – and away from the eyes of the clan, and Konoha, and everything.

He had tried to convince his father to abandon the coup again. They had had a heated argument about it, a long shouting match that had drained Itachi of all energy, even though he had relentlessly continued to make his case. His father remained stubborn, though, and Itachi still had to face the crushing disappointment that he had failed to deter the clan.

It was something he and Shisui had been discussing, before they had fought, and since then they hadn’t spoken. Itachi still felt as though he’d failed, even though Shisui didn’t know anything of the argument between him and Fugaku. Shisui had his own tasks to fulfil, his own plans to stop the coup, and days of not discussing them were making Itachi tense.

They needed to speak. They needed to find time to talk, friends or enemies, it didn’t matter; they were in this together, and Itachi wouldn’t give up on Shisui’s goals just because of a fight.

He sighed, heavily, head aching again.

He just needed his own time.

He just needed to be himself.

He felt as though time was counting down to something, every facet of his life trying to stack the deck in their favour, and he didn’t know where he belonged.


	7. Stay With Me

Captain.

He was half expecting it. It made sense, given his outstanding record. But at the same time, he knew it wasn’t what it seemed. Danzo hated him, he wouldn’t promote him without an ulterior motive, and Itachi knew that.

He had already negated any foul play on Danzo’s part with a genjutsu on his new team. He felt slightly unnerved by doing it, but at the same time, he knew it needed to be done. It made him feel somewhat queasy though, casting illusions on people who were supposed to be his comrades, who he was supposed to trust, but everything Danzo suggested made his skin crawl and he knew it had been the right thing to do.

It didn’t make him feel any less like a traitor, though, and he wandered the forest aimlessly, turning his thoughts over in his mind, sifting through emotions and trying to lock them away where they wouldn’t bother him.

He ended up close to the waterfall; he could hear it in the distance, powerful and never ending.

His thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey,” Shisui said softly.

“Hey,” Itachi returned, somewhat surprised to notice he didn’t feel in the least bit nervous. He figured he might – things between them had been tense, to say the least. They hadn’t seen each other in several days, not since they had fought.

Shisui stayed where he was, back against a tree, dark eyes locked onto Itachi. It was Itachi who moved first, hesitantly closing the distance between them.

“Heard you got promoted,” Shisui said, voice casual, but Itachi noticed the slight tremor in it.

“Yes.”

Shisui nodded slowly, as though turning the information over in his mind. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I guess.” It wasn’t a promotion based on merit, and they both knew it. It was Danzo’s latest attempt to infiltrate the Uchiha clan and learn whatever he could. Itachi’s team were to watch him, to spy, and report back. Itachi knew it, and he was pretty sure that Danzo knew that he knew.

The forest was silent, the only sound the distant rushing of water.

“Shisui-“

“I’m sorry about being an ass,” Shisui blurted, cutting Itachi off before he could speak.

Itachi drew back. “What?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. I was just so angry, you know? Fugaku seemed okay with us – well, not _okay_ , but putting up with it – and I knew it wasn’t you when you said you wanted us to break up. So I just wanted to do something about it.”

“You never act rashly,” Itachi said.

“Yeah. Except when it comes to you.” Shisui’s enigmatic dark eyes met Itachi’s. “Because I can’t think straight when you’re involved.”

There was a question in Itachi’s eyes, one he debated to ask. But, he felt like he knew the answer, and he needed the comfort – now, more than ever, while the world was crumbling around him. So he asked, “Why?”

Shisui’s eyes closed briefly, not in struggle, but in an attempt to organise his thoughts, lay them coherently. “Because,” he said softly, meeting Itachi’s gaze hesitantly. “You’re the world to me. You’re everything I ever wanted, and everything I’ll ever need. Because I love you, and I’ll do anything to protect you and keep you safe. Because I feel the need to fight for you – to keep you with me, to keep you where I know you want to be, and to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Shisui sighed, a long, drawn out sound. “So, yeah, I acted like an asshole, because I just wanted to get you back. I wanted you to realise that I will fight for us. No matter who intervenes.” He held out a hand, laying it gently on Itachi’s shoulder as he had done so many times before. “I will not leave you, and I will not let you leave me. We’re in this together. All of it.”

Itachi stared at him, tightening his jaw when he felt his lip start to quiver. _I’m sorry, Shisui. I’m sorry I listened to my father. I’m sorry I fought you. I’m sorry I hurt you._

“Come here,” Shisui said softly, pulling Itachi gently towards him. He wrapped his arms around the younger boy, holding tight when Itachi pressed his face into Shisui’s shoulder and gripped him tightly with shaking hands.

“Hey,” Shisui said softly, comfortingly, one hand carding gently through his hair. “You’re shaking. Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I know,” Shisui sighed, and Itachi shuddered as his breath brushed his neck. “We’ll figure it out, though.” _The coup_ , Shisui thought grimly. That’s what was bothering Itachi the most.

Shisui was going to speak to the Hokage in a few days; with another suggestion. He hoped this plan might work, and if it did, Itachi wouldn’t have to worry any more. The thought of war against Konoha was the one thing Itachi was determined to prevent, at any cost.

“Spend the night with me,” Itachi requested, his voice unusually small.

“Of course.” Shisui pressed his lips softly to the top of Itachi’s head. “Anything for you.”

Itachi shuddered against him, keeping his face hidden. Shisui said nothing, just waited until Itachi wasn’t shaking anymore, before tilting his head up to look at him. Itachi’s eyes were shining bright; he looked so worried it almost broke Shisui’s heart, all he wanted was to fix everything, take all those problems away.

Itachi stepped away from him, so many raw emotions twisting in his eyes, then, after a brief hesitation, flickered away. Despite the sombre mood, Shisui smiled a bit. He moved to follow, silently, and the moment he flickered his way into Itachi’s room, the younger boy’s hands were on him.

Clutching at his shirt, tugging at it, an annoyed huff escaping him when Shisui didn’t immediately comply by pulling it off. He knocked Shisui’s hands away when the older boy tried to touch him, tried to get a feel for the situation, and his dark eyes were wild when Shisui looked at him.

“Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Shisui caught Itachi’s wrists in his hands. “Slow down. Relax.”

Itachi let out a frustrated grumble. “I can’t. Please, don’t stop me. I need this.”

“You’re acting like the world is ending,” Shisui said, dark eyes digging into Itachi’s. “It’s okay. We’ll think of something. Try to calm down.”

Itachi shook his head. “I need this. Everything’s out of control.”

Shisui understood that. Itachi needed something he could take hold of, something he knew the outcome to. Something to control. Something that made him feel like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. “Okay, he breathed, letting Itachi’s wrists go. “It’s fine. We can do whatever you want. Just tell me.”

Itachi didn’t answer directly. He pressed his lips to Shisui’s, desperate, passionate, looking for grounding. He continued his clumsy assault on Shisui’s clothes, movements frantic, but this time unhindered. Shisui broke them apart long enough for Itachi to pull his shirt over his head, then he was back, hands snaking around Shisui to dig into his back.

Shisui allowed him, not interfering, not trying to take the lead, just letting Itachi do what he needed, until the younger boy finally hid his face in the crook of Shisui’s neck, hands clinging around him, keeping their bodies pressed close together, bare chests touching. Shisui could feel Itachi swallowing a few times, trying to regain some sort of composure. Slightly hesitantly, Shisui raised one hand to the back of Itachi’s head, pulling his hair free and tangling his fingers into the lengths of ebony, the other hand he left resting on Itachi’s hip, thumb hooked in the waist of his pants.

After a moment of silence and stillness, Itachi pushed his hips forwards, once.

It was more than a hint, and Shisui guided Itachi to the bed, somewhat surprised when Itachi pressed him down on his back and straddled his waist.

_Well, this is different_ , Shisui raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Would you . . . could we . . .” Itachi bit his lip, looking nervous. The sight sparked a flash of heat in Shisui’s belly. “Can we try this way?” His gaze was utterly imploring, and Shisui wouldn’t have been able to say no even if he had wanted to.

“Of course,” he whispered instead. “Whatever you want.”

Itachi was chewing his lip thoughtfully, nodding a little, looking fractionally more relaxed at Shisui’s words. He stayed still, though.

“What’s the matter?” Shisui asked gently.

“What if this is the last time? What if everything goes wrong? What if we can’t stop the coup?” Itachi’s dark eyes were haunted.

“Look at me,” Shisui said, not forcefully, but with a tone that Itachi couldn’t disobey. He waited until the younger’s eyes met his hesitantly. “It won’t be the last time. I’ll never leave you. I promise, okay?”

It took a few minutes before Itachi nodded slowly.

Shisui smiled softly. “It’ll be alright. Now,” he squirmed a little, the movement made Itachi jump slightly. “Are we going to move this along? You were quite into it a few minutes ago and to be honest, I’m a little uncomfortable.”

 

It felt good waking up next to Shisui again.

Itachi snuggled into him, letting an arm fall across his chest, fingers gripping lightly onto smooth skin.

Shisui twitched, snorted, and rolled over, arms coming sleepily around Itachi. Itachi leaned into the contact willingly, closing his eyes again. He let out a sigh, and Shisui twitched again at Itachi’s cool breath across his skin. He murmured something.

“What?” Itachi asked with a slight frown.

“Said stop moving,” Shisui mumbled. “’M sleeping.”

Itachi smiled, and wiggled a bit, letting out a sudden yelp when Shisui’s grip around him tightened, pinning him to the older boy’s chest.

“Now you can’t move,” Shisui sounded rather self-satisfied, throwing a leg over Itachi, and drawing him even closer. “Go back to sleep.”

“We need to get up.”

“I have the morning off.”

“I need to get up.”

“You need to stop squirming.” Shisui put his chin on the top of Itachi’s head, effectively trapping him against his body. “There. Stay put.”

“But-“

“No, shush, it’s sleep time.” Shisui tightened his grip childishly.

With a defeated sigh, Itachi lay still. He waited a few minutes before trying again. “I need to get up. My father and I are speaking today.” It was Itachi’s last chance to do something about the coup, because the rumours had been increasing. The day the clan attacked Konoha was drawing closer, and time was running out. He needed to stop it now.

“Hm,” Shisui made a considering noise. “I’ll let you go in a bit.”

After a pause, Itachi said quietly, “This is my last chance to change everything.”

He felt Shisui’s breath hitch.

“The coup is going to happen – in _days_. I have one more chance to stop it. If I can’t . . .”

“We will find a way,” Shisui assured him. “It’ll be okay.”

“But it won’t,” Itachi said, breaking out of Shisui’s grip so he could look him in the eyes. “It won’t be fine, the clan doesn’t _want_ it to be fine. There will be a war, Shisui, and I-“

“There will not be a war,” Shisui said firmly. “I promise you that. I will not let you fight in a war, and you will not see Konoha fall. The two of us will stop this, one way or another.”

“What if we aren’t strong enough together? How can just two of us change the whole clan – the whole future?”

“The two of us is one too many,” Shisui said with a crooked smile. “Even one of us will be enough.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You will,” Shisui placed a gentle kiss to Itachi’s forehead. “No matter what happens, I promise, there will not be a war on Konoha because of the Uchiha.”

“How can you be so certain?” Itachi asked, dark eyes raw and desperate.

“I’ve got a plan in mind, in case things don’t go the way we want,” Shisui said. “We’ll talk about it later. You’ve got things to do today, and I have people I need to speak to. We will make everything alright.”

Itachi drew away from him reluctantly. “Are you sure?”

It was only absolute trust in Shisui that stopped Itachi from seeing the haunted look in his cousin’s eyes. “I’m sure.”

Itachi nodded slowly; wanting to believe. He suppressed a strained sigh, and got out of bed. Shisui watched him while he dressed, the usual levity on the older boy’s face replaced with something heavier, something deeper.

When Itachi left the room, Shisui rummaged in the drawers of Itachi’s desk, selecting a blank sheet of paper and a pen, and with a glance over his shoulder, to ascertain Itachi was not watching, he began to write.

 

Fugaku did not notice Itachi at first, and that made Itachi really look at his father. Fugaku looked haggard, weighted down by as much as Itachi was, and for the first time in a long time, Itachi felt a twinge of sympathy. They were both holding onto too much.

“Father.” Itachi didn’t want to startle him.

Fugaku looked up, a flicker of exhaustion across his face. “Itachi. Come inside.”

The young genius edged into the room, closing the door gently and sitting down opposite his father. He figured there was no point in hiding his intentions, and getting to the point would benefit them both. “It’s about the coup.”

Fugaku brought a hand up to his face, scrubbing across it in a gesture that seemed burdened. “We spoke about this already.”

“Is it really the best way? Is it the best choice?” Itachi asked.

“We don’t always know if something is the best choice before we do it,” Fugaku said. “We can only hope that it is.”

“Is it the only way?”

“It’s the only way forward for the clan,” Fugaku said. “If I could think of another way, I would. I have seen a war, I’ve fought in one. This is not my choice alone, but it is the one I feel is the best for us.”

“If you don’t want a war, then why go through with this?”

“It’s not about what I want,” Fugaku said, and Itachi had heard himself echo those same words countless times throughout his life. “I need to think of the clan as a whole. Of everyone’s future, not just my own. Not just yours.”

“But the clan will listen to you,” Itachi insisted. “If you said no-“

“Nothing would change,” Fugaku said. “The clan has made its decision. If I disagree, then I am the traitor amongst them. I am the head of this clan, and I will not have it lying in the shadows any longer, and frowned upon by Konoha. We are a great clan, you know that. The world should know that.”

“If I could find a better way,” Itachi asked. “Would you listen to me?”

“If you could change the whole clan,” Fugaku said, voice measured. “I would be prouder of you than I ever thought possible.”

“I will stop this war,” Itachi said. “I just need more time.”

“I will delay for as long as I can,” Fugaku replied. “But the clan is restless. At best, maybe I can give you a few days. There is a clan meeting tomorrow night. You should be there.”

Itachi nodded slightly.

“As our best shinobi, and the next head of the clan, it is your duty to be there.”

_I’m not the best. Shisui is._ “I will do what I can.”

“If things should come to a war,” and Fugaku was more than certain they would. “I expect to have you at my side, as my son and as an Uchiha.”

Itachi met his gaze without wavering. “I will be on whichever side is right.”


	8. Shake The Foundations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the angst intensifies. A special thanks once again to my sister for checking the flow of this chapter.

There was a long silence between them, all the implications of Itachi’s simple sentence swirling around.

Fugaku bowed his head slightly. “I see.”

He had expected Itachi to side with the clan. He had never doubted that. But now he was doubting it. Maybe the ‘erratic’ behaviour the clan had accused him of was true. Maybe Itachi wasn’t as loyal to the clan as Fugaku had assumed.

The silence stretched out again.

“Don’t turn your back on your family,” Fugaku said warningly.

There was nothing Itachi could say to that, and so he remained quiet.

 

“Do you want to meet up later?” Shisui asked, glancing over at Itachi as the younger boy methodically donned his Anbu uniform.

“Yes.”

“At the training grounds?”

“Yes.”

Shisui considered Itachi’s short answers. “Did something happen?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Itachi said, sliding his sword onto his back. “I have to go now.”

Shisui stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed and ready for the day. “Be careful.”

“I am.”

With barely a glance towards him, Itachi left the room.

He had a meeting with Danzo. Lately, Danzo’s every glance and sentence had set Itachi on edge, and the young prodigy couldn’t help but feel that the old man was plotting something. He had no proof of it, though, just the uneasy feeling that something would go wrong. And that feeling had been with him for weeks, so he couldn’t give it much credence at this stage.

Still, he hated the way Danzo stared at him, like he was some sort of inferior being that needed to be caged away. Since he had been named Captain, that feeling had only grown stronger. For now, all Itachi could do about it was be aware of it.

It hammered at him in full force when Danzo looked down at him, his visible eye narrowed, and Itachi felt the skin at the back of his neck prickle as he stood patiently awaiting orders.

“This is a solo mission,” Danzo said solemnly. “You will go alone.”

“Is this on or off the record?” Itachi asked, because lately he had been doing a number of ‘off the record’ missions.

“On the record,” Danzo replied, and Itachi felt a slight twinge of relief. Not so bad then, and he could probably talk about it too.

He nodded. “Anything else?”

“You will leave tomorrow morning. This shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

Another polite nod. That put a bit of a wrench in the works; there was a clan meeting tomorrow night and Fugaku had been dropping hints (threats) for a while that Itachi had better be there. Maybe he could get the mission done quicker. He was unnervingly efficient after all. “Yes, Danzo-sama.”

“That’s all I need from you right now. You may go.”

He bowed low, keen to make a quick exit. He was musing to himself as he walked through the building, taking note of his team following him – he hoped they weren’t trying to hide because they were doing a thoroughly terrible job at it. He had noticed them instantly.

He felt a twinge of annoyance, because if they were going to spy on him they could at least try to be a bit subtler. Sasuke was a better spy.

“What do you want?” His annoyance got the better of him, and he snapped at them, standing still and waiting for them to step from their hiding places.

“Just awaiting orders, Captain,” one of them said.

Itachi glowered. “You have no orders. There is no mission for you.”

They both took that as dismissal, flitting away from view, but the moment Itachi stepped outside again he could feel them. He stopped himself from rolling his eyes. When he was back from this mission he was going to give them a refresher course in stealth because they had apparently never heard the word before.

They only followed as far as the Uchiha compound, but Itachi sent an annoyed look over his shoulder as he entered, so they would know he was watching them just as much as they were watching him.

One bright spot in the day was his afternoon, since he and Shisui had planned to spend it sparring. Shisui had selected taijutsu as the thing to focus on, which Itachi did need to work on, but it still irked him because he knew Shisui was far superior to him, and he didn’t really enjoy losing every match in an afternoon.

And because he was focused on everything but training – the conversation with his father, his missions, his infuriating team and their inability to spy correctly – he got knocked on his ass about ten times before Shisui finally called it for the afternoon.

He tried to laugh it off, to make it seem like Itachi hadn’t been completely off his game, and an embarrassment to watch at best. "Look at that. Seems I’ve got more wins than you now.”

He always would have, but that went unspoken.

“I guess so.” Itachi was tired, looking up at Shisui rather dully. And that was a mistake, because Shisui could always see right through him.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been so lost in thought, this might have ended differently,” Shisui offered a hand, hauling Itachi to his feet. That was a lie as well, but Itachi appreciated the effort to make him look like less of a fool.

“You noticed that, huh?” he replied softly.

Shisui’s gentle smile was like a loving caress. “Come on Itachi, how long have I known you?” The teasing tone was meant to make him feel better. It wasn’t working. “I know what this is about.”

Itachi just nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face to try to clear his head.

“Come on,” Shisui said. “Let’s go talk somewhere.”

Itachi followed him in willing silence, stomach knotting because he had to admit now that he had failed in preventing the coup, and admitting failure to Shisui was mortifying, more so when he’d been beaten into the ground by their earlier training.

Shisui sat down on a rock overlooking the waterfall, and sighed, breaking the silence first. “So I take it, it didn’t go well?”

The knots in Itachi’s stomach tightened. “I’m sorry.” _I’m sorry I failed you_. “I did everything I could, but all I could accomplish was to delay the plan.”

He waited anxiously for a rebuke, but Shisui spoke in a weary voice.

“This is a coup by our entire clan. We always knew it wouldn’t be easy to dissuade them. Their will to make this happen is much stronger than we anticipated. That said, delaying the plan is still a great result.” He offered Itachi a small smile, encouraging.

Itachi didn’t feel like he deserved the comfort. “How about you? You said you were going to try and find some allies.”

Shisui had been mentioning his plan on and off, and Itachi had been clinging hopefully to it. His hopes were dashed when Shisui explained resignedly, “I’m afraid it’s not going well. For better or for worse, they’re part of the Uchiha clan, so their bond is strong.”

At Itachi’s crestfallen expression, he smiled again. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look.”

Itachi stared at the ground guiltily.

“Remember, this is you and me that we’re talking about, Itachi.” Shisui stood up, to lay a hand on Itachi’s shoulder. “So don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

He had been saying that a lot lately, and Itachi was finding it harder and harder to believe.

“In any case,” Shisui continued, clearly believing that something good would happen. “You keep an eye out and work from the inside. I’ll work on finding another way.”

Itachi just nodded, but the feeling of cloying hopelessness was getting harder to ignore, even with Shisui’s continued optimism. He wanted to lean into Shisui, to feel his arms around him, the one grounding in force in his life that made him think maybe it would be okay, but the moment was interrupted by Sasuke’s loud arrival, and for once Itachi was not pleased to see his brother.

When Sasuke asked what they were talking about, he hedged, unsure of what to say. When he heard Shisui heave an exaggerated sigh next to him, he knew he had done something wrong, and Shisui was going to make him pay for it – because humiliating him in training just hadn’t been enough for one day.

Sure enough, he had Sasuke indignantly defending Itachi’s abilities within seconds, and Shisui looking at him with a rakish, infuriating grin.

_Come on_ , his expression said. _Tell Sasuke how you never, ever lose to anyone._

And it was hard to defend yourself when the entire afternoon had consisted of crippling losses. He sent Shisui a glare, hoping it conveyed his annoyance at being put on the spot, but Shisui just chuckled, uncaring of Itachi’s discomfort and apparently delighted with himself for causing it.

Only Shisui could find a way to make life amusing when everything was so difficult.

 

The meeting with the council could have gone better, Shisui supposed. Danzo, as always, seemed irrationally annoyed with him. But the Hokage was willing to listen, to give Shisui a chance, and that’s all he needed.

He had promised Itachi he would come up with plan. Itachi had bought him some time by delaying the coup, but preventing it seemed impossible at this point. There was no way around – it was Kotoamatsukami or nothing.

He was watching the clan late that afternoon, having rested, prepared, and saved his energy, from the concealed safety of a tree at the edge of the training grounds.

_I have no regrets_ , he thought. _This will save everyone. This will prevent a war._

_Itachi is probably going to be mad at me for doing this without him_ , he thought ruefully. His expression settled into a frown as he reminded himself why he was doing this. Itachi wanted Sasuke to have a safe future. And Shisui wanted Itachi to be happy. He wanted all three of them to be happy. And using genjutsu on the whole clan – he didn’t care about the consequences to himself, his reputation, his perceived loyalty. What mattered was Itachi. _But this will keep you together as a family. That’s what’s most important. For that, I’ll do anything._

The Sharingan swirled to life in his eyes, he gathered his chakra, focusing, because this would not be an easy task. It might have been easier with help, but he was going to be branded a traitor for this, and he wanted to keep Itachi out of it.

One of them deserved to keep their name clear.

Before he had time to even begin casting the illusion, he heard, felt, the whistle of a kunai flying towards him.

 

There was a feeling of unease sitting in the pit of Itachi’s stomach, and he couldn’t take his attention off it.

He didn’t know why – but something just felt _wrong_. It felt as though all the doubts, all the tension, all the anxious expectations that something would go wrong were coming to a head now. This mission didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel like a mission so much as a distraction.

And he couldn’t figure out why.

What reason would Danzo have to keep Itachi out of the way, when so many of the old man’s plans hinged on Itachi’s presence? It didn’t make sense.

Had Itachi missed something? Had he missed some sort of signal, some form of communication? Was he making a mistake?

_Don’t disobey orders_ , he thought, forcing himself to keep going.

_But it feels so wrong._

There was anxious fear prickling his skin all over, piercing into him with an insistence that could not be ignored. And the fact that it was so prominent made him want to listen. Because he had never questioned a mission like this one – and that made him think that maybe his instincts were right. Maybe something was wrong. The twist in his stomach made him feel slightly sick, the world seemed colder than it should be.

This feeling couldn’t be ignored. It was too strong, too insistent. He couldn’t bring himself to disregard it, he couldn’t make it go away, and he couldn’t get rid of it.

With an uneasy glance back at Konoha, he made his decision.

 

_Damn it,_ Shisui thought, and voiced it aloud mere seconds later as the Foundation continued their assault. He didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his right eye so far, he was too preoccupied trying to stay alive.

His vision blurred; whatever gas he had inhaled was clearly taking its toll. He didn’t know how much longer he could try to out run them. He had heard about the Foundation from Itachi, but had never faced them. They did not disappoint the stories Itachi had told.

With a herculean effort, Shisui gathered his thoughts. One eye wasn’t a problem. As Danzo had said – he was the best amongst the Uchiha, and he would prove it.

_I’m not done yet_ , he thought, and the world brightened as his Mangekyou flared to life.

 

Itachi faltered, his hasty run back to the village momentarily derailed, because was that . . . did he feel Shisui’s Susanoo?

Why would he need that? Why would he need that inside the village?

The feeling of dread in his stomach was solid lead now, nearly weighing him down. He increased his speed, almost impossibly, following the feeling of Shisui’s powerful attack, heart almost leaping into his throat when he felt it shudder, and begin to fade.

But he was close enough now to see Shisui’s chakra, unusually spent, and he closed the final distance with a practiced flicker.

 

Shisui’s world blurred, his strength finally giving out, and he was about to fall to the ground when everything spun, tilted off its axis and all he could hear was air whistling past his ears, and the puzzling sound of fire.

He would recognise the sound of Katon anywhere, but it hadn’t been from him, and as far as he knew only the Uchiha clan knew that jutsu. The world stopped again, and righted itself, and Shisui found himself sitting against a tree, looking at the worried face of Itachi.

Oh. That explained the fire, and the sudden departure from where he had been.

He smiled weakly. “I thought . . . that you were on a mission.”

Itachi did not return the smile. He looked pale, probably more so than Shisui was. “Something didn’t feel right,” Itachi admitted. “So I came back.”

Shisui let out a sigh. “Glad you did.”

Itachi hovered, nervous, seemingly ready to gloss over the fact that a single move had incapacitated two Foundation members in favour of fawning over Shisui. He was staring at his empty right eye, barely able to his conceal his horror.

“Sorry for the trouble,” Shisui said, because Itachi was bound to get an earful for disobeying orders.

Itachi stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “What? I don’t . . . You shouldn’t . . .”

“Calm down,” Shisui said. “I was just joking.”

How could he joke? Itachi wondered, with one eye gone, and his chakra depleted and all the pressure that had been building in the past few weeks had reached boiling point.

“It’s a good thing,” Shisui said, still smiling, “We practiced the Shunshin. Told you it would be useful to have one day.”

Itachi ignored Shisui’s attempts at humour, shifting forward on his knees until he could lay his head against the older boy’s neck, and held onto him, panic almost seeping through his skin. Shisui blinked one eye, automatically holding Itachi as well.

_Time for Plan B_ , he thought, and it was not a comforting thought. “We need to get away from here.”

Itachi nodded against Shisui’s neck.

“To the waterfall.”

“Shouldn’t we go the Hokage?” Itachi sat up, anxious dark eyes watching Shisui carefully.

“No. There’s nothing he can do at this stage.” Shisui got to his feet slowly. “It’s you and me, Itachi. We need to talk.”

And Itachi’s face broke his heart, because he looked at Shisui was absolute trust, completely believing that he would make sure everything turned out alright in the end. Itachi would do whatever Shisui asked, with naïve hope and utter faith.

Shisui was counting on that.


	9. Trust and Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to my sister - this was originally the final chapter in the story but she told me I couldn't end it here. So, hopefully the next two chapters justify her decision and this chapter is not a suitable conclusion, as intended.

The sun had almost set.

Itachi, over the initial shock of the last half hour, was now seething, face set in a stony frown, as though he would go back into Konoha and obliterate Danzo without a second thought.

Shisui sighed, finally breaking the silence that had come over them. He had been struggling to find the words he needed. “The Foundation is involved. Unfortunately, it seems like there’s no way to stop the Uchiha’s coup.” Danzo had been right. Even if Shisui prevented it now, it would likely come up again in the future. He wasn’t sure what exactly Danzo meant by eliminating the Uchiha – that was a task too great to comprehend – but he knew Itachi would manage with whatever was asked of him. Especially if it was Shisui asking. “If internal warfare breaks out in the Leaf, the neighbouring countries will invade and war will begin.”

There was a barely concealed tremble from Itachi. At all costs, at any costs, Itachi would not allow a war. It was a stubborn, steadfast belief Shisui needed to take advantage of. The coup would end with Itachi, Shisui was certain of that.

“I was planning on using Kotoamatsukami to stop the coup but Danzo took my right eye. He didn’t trust what I was trying to do.” Shisui should have seen it coming, and he was furious with himself for not. Danzo hated the Uchiha, always had. Shisui had been a fool to think Danzo would allow another Uchiha to stop the coup. He assumed Shisui’s loyalty lay stronger with his clan than with the village.

Itachi was still frowning, tamping down his murderous rage in order to listen.

“And he will resort to anything to protect the Hidden Leaf village. They’ll probably come after my left eye too.” _Danzo wants my power_. He didn’t say that to Itachi, he didn’t want to put the idea of revenge into the younger’s head. He swallowed. “Before that happens I want you to have it.”

Here, Itachi seemed to spring back to life, jerking back to reality as Shisui moved his hand towards his face. “Shisui . . .” He didn’t know what to say though, he was too shell-shocked by Shisui’s declaration.

_This can’t be happening. Shisui . . ._

“You’re really the only friend I can trust,” Shisui said. Itachi winced as he pulled his eye free, and when Shisui’s words registered a few moments later he felt sick to his stomach, because it sounded like a good bye, but it couldn’t be. “Protect the village, and the Uchiha name.”

He held out the eye expectantly. Itachi felt lost, unable to keep up with the situation. Shisui seemed too calm, too in control. The whole thing felt . . . premeditated, and it made Itachi’s stomach knot. He remained rooted to the spot, until he finally found the courage to summon a crow to keep the eye safe. _Why would I need it? Shisui, what use are you to the clan now? Why would you do something like this, if we still need to fight together . . ._

“But I . . .” _I won’t be doing this alone, Shisui. You’ll be with me. Don’t say it like it’s the last thing you need from me._

“And,” Shisui continued, cutting Itachi off before he could protest too much. “That isn’t the only thing I need to give you. I’m going to give you a new power too.”

Realisation dawned, like a hammer blow to the gut. Itachi’s blood ran cold. _No. Shisui, no. Please, no._

“The Mangekyou Sharingan,” Shisui added, and Itachi felt his heart tear in two.

“Shisui, you _can’t_ ,” he blurted, desperate to talk some sense into his cousin.

“I’m not going to last long anyway,” Shisui said, still talking over Itachi, blocking out his thoughts and words. “Take it as a gift.”

_I don’t want it._

“My dying wish.”

_I don’t want it. Please don’t do this_. His breathing quickened, panic starting to set it, his body suddenly flashing hot and cold, his skin prickling. Shisui’s dry chuckle confused him.

“What’s with that look of yours?” Shisui said lightly, far too lightly for what he was saying – for what he was intending.

Itachi’s furrowed brow deepened. _Don’t make jokes. Don’t do this to me._

“Even like this I can still see your face easily, you know.” Shisui lifted a hand to rest on Itachi’s shoulder, the contact was like fire onto Itachi’s frozen body. “A worried expression just doesn’t look good on you.”

Itachi bit back a protest.

“You must always remain calm. That’s what Uchiha Itachi is.” He still sounded too carefree, too light-hearted, too at peace with his decision that was tearing Itachi apart, and he wanted to argue, to change Shisui’s mind, but . . . but it was what he _wanted_ , and Itachi was powerless to question him.

He couldn’t speak. His tongue was too thick, there was a lump in his throat, and it hurt so badly.

“I’m positive you can do this.”

_I’m not. I can’t. Please. Not without you_. Itachi trembled slightly, fighting his own internal battle, trying to decide if he should fulfil Shisui’s wishes, or defy him completely.

“So don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

Itachi closed his eyes, blocking the tears that threatened to fall. He wanted to say something. He wanted to speak, but he just couldn’t _. It won’t be fine, it won’t be, you know it won’t. Don’t leave me._ He summoned all his strength, just to grind out a single sentence, “I will carry on your will for the Uchiha.”

What else could he say? What else could he do, when asked something by the one person in his life who believed in him with absolute devotion and conviction?

“From now on, you may be forced to walk down a long, dark path, one that’s filled with pain and suffering. I have to apologize that I can’t be with you through it all.”

_Then stay with me._

“Still, I hope you don’t falter from your path.” Shisui’s hand on Itachi’s shoulder shook, and the feeling amplified throughout Itachi’s body, bringing with it another wave of fiery nausea. “And keep moving forward as a Leaf ninja. I believe in you.”

That was the final straw; Itachi felt his composure slip. He gritted his teeth, trying not to break down. Shisui believed in him. He couldn’t fail a task before he had even started it. He couldn’t break now. He couldn’t break ever.

“That is why I’m able to ask you to carry my will, and the Mangekyou.” If Shisui could feel Itachi shaking he said nothing of it. He _had_ to feel it, Itachi’s whole body vibrated with the effort of keeping himself still, of not cracking and falling to his knees and screaming.

Shisui stepped away, Itachi tilted after him slightly, mourning the loss of contact.

The sun had almost faded completely, the sky above them was growing darker.

Shisui sighed heavily, and for some reason the sound made Itachi’s stomach drop.

“Thank you,” he said, blindly facing the setting sun as the last rays vanished behind the mountain. “For everything.”

Itachi said nothing.

“I guess this is the end of the road for me.” His words spiked another hot flash of panic. “But this will pave a new way for you, and give you new power.”

_I don’t want it. Come back to me._

There was a long tense silence. Was Shisui waiting for Itachi to say something? Would he wait until Itachi spoke, before . . . before anything? If that was the case, Itachi would ever open his mouth again. He clenched his jaw shut resolutely, ready to start an eternal game of the silent treatment if it would keep Shisui with him.

“Well Itachi, now the time has come.”

_No, no, no, don’t!_

“Make a new way for yourself with your own hands. You can do it, I know you can.”

Itachi felt rooted in place, unable to move, horror and dread locking down his muscles, everything frozen like a terrible, morbid illusion. _I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!_

He wanted to scream it aloud, but his body would not listen. This was true fear. It was as paralysing as everyone had told him. He never thought he would experience it. His mind flashed, dredging up thoughts of Shisui, of the years they spent together, and maybe if he thought them loud enough Shisui would stay with him.

“See you, friend. I’ll leave the rest to you.” Shisui stepped back, and like that Itachi snapped out of his stupor.

“Shisui, wait,” he lurched forward.

“Don’t try to stop me, Itachi,” Shisui said, tone just sharp enough to make Itachi hesitate. That hesitation was all that was needed. In the next moment, Itachi saw Shisui tip backwards, the edge of the cliff _too close_ , and he disappeared from view.

“Shisui!” Itachi dived forward, hand grasping frantically. He missed.

_He missed._

And Shisui continued to fall.

_No, no, no nononononononono!_

His eyes blurred, from deathly panic and welling tears, and a few drops spilled forth and followed Shisui down.

_You said you’d never leave me_ , Itachi thought desperately, chest heaving, eyes overflowing. _You said . . . you promised . . . you_ said _! You said never!_

“Shisui!”

There was no answer, only the lonely echo of his voice.

_You said_ , his mind kept repeating, like a petulant, jilted child. _You said, you promised, Shisui, you_ promised _!_

The world felt cold. The night air made him shiver. Everything seemed so real, as though Shisui had been an ethereal mist over his world, but now he had been snatched away and nothing was between Itachi and his own terrible reality.

The Mangekyou burned, two bright spots of fiery pain in a world of ice, the tears on his cheeks stung, blood and water mixed.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, staring into the water, before the chill became too much, and he realised he had to do something, he had to move, had to leave, had to just . . . _something_.

Then he sprang to life again, one tiny, dangling, desperate shred of hope bursting in his chest. Maybe Shisui was fine. He was an excellent ninja, he could catch himself. He could break his fall. He could do something, anything, and he would be fine. There was no need to worry, because Shisui was alive down there, and Itachi was going to go to him, find him, and they would be together again.

His usual grace was muted as he ran, heart pounding, breath rasping harshly, back into the forest, taking the twisting path down to the edge of the water. He knew the current, he knew where Shisui would swim to. He would be in the little cove of rocks, laughing and smiling. Waiting for Itachi.

Itachi stopped at the edge of the water, looking searchingly through the darkness for his cousin, his heart hammering with equal parts hope and dread.

Shisui had to be here. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave all of this to Itachi alone.

For a moment, his hopes soared. There was Shisui – still in the water, probably just swam here – and Itachi was about to call out when the sound died in his throat and reality crashed back in. Shisui wasn’t moving. This was really happening.

“Shisui?” Itachi hesitated, taking small steps forwards. His toes touched the water, it was like ice, shooting into his skin. He swallowed a shuddering breath. “Shisui . . .” _Please get up. Please, I can’t do this on my own._

He reached out a tentative hand, pressing fingers ever so gently into Shisui’s shoulder. He was cold. So cold, because the river was icy and frigid, and Itachi’s hope shrivelled away.

“Please, Shisui,” he took another step closer, the water rising to his knees, both hands grasping at the sopping shirt on Shisui’s body. “Please, I can’t do this without you. I need you. I need you now, forever, you can’t . . . you can’t . . .”

His legs wobbled, and finally he couldn’t hold himself up anymore and dropped down into the water with a muted splash, icy cold piercing his skin, slowly numbing hands gripping into Shisui’s shirt, his cheek resting against tousled wet hair. His eyes burned, shivering hurt, but he didn’t move. He stayed where he was, breath a shuddering gasp, heart hammering, and body shaking, holding on with fingers that couldn’t feel anymore.

_Please, please don’t let this be real. Let this be a dream, that’s all I ask. All I want, is for this not to be true. To be anything but true._

But the freezing cold was undeniable, Shisui’s lifeless body pressed against his was too real, Itachi’s tears dripping onto his sodden hair were there, without question.

This wasn’t a dream.

It wasn’t a nightmare.

This was the truth.


	10. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has nothing to do with the story, I was just feeling very fancy because my sister and I went to a proper tea house today. Very interesting, might start taking it up as a hobby. No wonder Itachi enjoys it. Hopefully this note distracts everyone from the fact that this chapter is very depressing.

He heard the whispers. No one tried to hide them from him.

He saw their looks. Suspicion. Distrust. A flicker of fear, concealed as quickly as it had been revealed.

He took the blame, because it didn’t matter anymore who was right and who was wrong. Besides, it was better Shisui died a hero – no doubt he had fought valiantly to stop Itachi, who was probably betraying his clan – than as a mere suicide, which people muttered was the coward’s way out.

But they didn’t know – they didn’t know how much Shisui had given. And that still didn’t matter, because everyone thought he’d done it. He heard them talking. He didn’t try not to.

“Uchiha Shisui didn’t commit suicide – he was better than that. He was the best amongst us, he would never have done something so cowardly.”

“He believed in the clan, he would never turn his back on us.”

“Itachi did it.”

“He’s gone crazy. Geniuses often do.”

“Itachi killed his best friend.”

“All in the pursuit of power.”

No.

Itachi stood solemnly at the top of the Nakano waterfall.

All in the pursuit of a greater good. And _Danzo_ killed him.

It would be so easy to follow. The water gushed, crashing to the ground far below. There were rocks, he could land the right way amongst them. Death would be instantaneous. They would think it was out of guilt, and Shisui’s name would remain clear.

But . . . that was not the path he had to follow. It was not the path he had chosen.

If he died, there would be no one to dissuade the coup. There would be no one standing between Konoha and war. There would be needless bloodshed, hundreds of lives lost, innocent lives – Sasuke! –

With a heavy sigh, Itachi turned away. He walked home quietly, the night closing around him with startling clarity. He had a job to do – a promise to fulfil. He had promised there would be no war, and Sasuke would have a better future than him – and Sasuke was all that was left. Sasuke was all that mattered.

Itachi paused outside the back door. The house felt unwelcoming now. It felt like the world had been turned inside out and upside down, and Itachi didn’t know which direction he was facing, or where to go. And his guiding force had been snuffed out.

He tried to ignore it when three Uchiha came to question him the next day. He wanted to pretend he wasn’t home, but he was. He had been sitting in his room fighting the urge to vomit. He only partially succeeded. He tried not to get angry at them, he tried not to snap, but he did. Because his self-control was rubbed raw, flayed and painful, and his eyes burned when the thought of Mangekyou brushed across his mind.

But none of that mattered now.

Nothing else mattered, as he slumped against his bedroom wall, Shisui’s note in his hand – he recognised the paper and that just made the pain even sharper - and sank down until he was sitting in a pathetic huddle. He didn’t cry. He had done that enough, he didn’t think he could anymore. His stomach twisted, all those razor-sharp emotions snaking through him.

He gripped both arms around himself, curling in, the note crinkled in his hand. He felt so sick. It was a deep-seated sickness, that penetrated his core, deeper than he ever thought any emotion could go. The world was hazy, murky, the Mangekyou flared at strange times, reacting to his turmoil, and the only thing that felt solid and tangible was the black hole in his gut, gnawing deeper and deeper with every passing hour, eating away at him.

The nausea returned. He fought it down, curling into himself even more, eyes closed and muscles clenched. But nothing went the way he wanted anymore, and his stomach heaved, more adamant, against his will, and in the next moment he scrambled to his feet and lurched towards the bathroom.

 

The sky was still peaceful, with the moon glowing bright and the stars shining.

Itachi leant his weight on his palms, head tilted back to look at the stars, the tips of his toes brushing the water in the Koi pond. He had expected life to feel unreal. He thought that maybe his brain wouldn’t be able to believe that Shisui was really gone. He thought it might take days to process it. But it was _real_ , too real, and it crashed against him in its intensity. There was no mystery, no denial, no comfort that maybe this was all a dream.

It was reality, pure and simple. Cold, hard, undeniable reality. Everything hurt, the cavernous, clutching hurt that was more than physical. People could stop physical pain. They could cure it, or numb it, but this pain, this was unrelenting, settling inside him like a viscous acid. He felt _hollow_ , as though something inside him had been ripped out.

“Nii-san?”

His thoughts were interrupted by a hesitant voice behind him, and Itachi closed his eyes briefly. This was the last thing he wanted right now. He steeled himself for the conversation to come. “Yes, Sasuke?”

There was the soft patter of bare feet on wood, then Sasuke was standing at his shoulder, fists clenched, and looking unsure. His mouth was pressed into a wobbly line. “Why did Shisui die?”

Itachi thought his heart might have stopped, the question felt like his consciousness was plunged into ice water. He swallowed, heart throbbing. He couldn’t answer.

“Nii-san? People said he killed himself. Mother said he killed himself.”

Itachi clenched his eyes shut again. Mikoto had looked at him with a haunted, desolate look in her eyes when she had heard of Shisui’s death, and Itachi wondered if she believed the words she said to Sasuke. A broken breath escaped him.

Sasuke edged a fraction closer. “He wouldn’t do that, though. Because he said . . . he said we were a team. All three of us. You and me and him. He said he was the leader, and a leader wouldn’t kill himself. He _said_ -“

“ _I know what he said_ ,” Itachi snapped harshly, emotions gushing, swirling, inside him, and there wasn’t room in his slight frame for all that he was feeling – even as hollow as he was.

Sasuke took a step back, eyes wide and bright with moisture. His lip trembled. “He _said_ . . .”

“He’s _dead_ ,” Itachi snarled, standing up and rounding on his brother. “He’s dead and it _doesn’t matter_ what he said because he was _wrong_! He was wrong, and he’s gone, and _nothing matters_.” The Mangekyou burned bright in his eyes. “Nothing can change it, and nothing can bring him back. He failed, I failed, we couldn’t do what he said and it doesn’t _matter_!”

He didn’t know who started crying first, only that he could feel tears running down his cheeks, and could see them sparkling on Sasuke’s face as well, the younger’s eyes awash with anguish and fear. Itachi went into the house, in a stumbling run, one hand wiping at his face and the stupid Sharingan wouldn’t fade, it wouldn’t obey, and the lack of control over it only stressed him out more. _Come back, Shisui, come back to me . . ._

“Itachi-“ Mikoto called after him as he faltered through the house.

He shook his head, not stopping, and when she reached a hand towards him, placed it on his shoulder, he whirled away, red eyes on fire and the tears still coming. “Don’t touch me! I don’t want - just – Go away!”

He tried to turn away, hitting her arm aside, vision blurring from tears, and found himself knocking face first into Fugaku’s chest.

“Leave me alone,” he snapped, words muffled in the fabric of his father’s shirt, and he struggled pathetically when Fugaku put his arms around him, holding him still. “Let me go, I don’t want to – I don’t want anyone to – I don’t know how –“

One of Fugaku’s hands cradled the back of his head, holding him close, blocking out the world. He pressed his other hand against Itachi’s back, and the boy stood still, finally, broken sobs and gasps stifled, but still very present.

Itachi pushed his face into his father’s chest, trying to hide, but he could hardly breathe, gulping for air in a body that refused to calm down and just let him take in a breath. He could hear Sasuke crying, the younger child’s hiccupping sobs being soothed by Mikoto, and he wanted everything to just _stop_.

The streaming tears wouldn’t stop, the gasps and sobs wouldn’t stop, and when he heard Sasuke wail, his heart nearly tore in two and he let out a muted wail of his own, and at the sound Fugaku tightened his grip on him, murmuring something. It was comforting. It was reassuring.

He heard footsteps, and Sasuke’s crying went with it, the child sobbing into Mikoto’s shoulder as she held him and carried him to his room. Itachi stayed where he was, the shaking and crying beyond his control. He didn’t know how long he stood like that, because it felt too long. He hated feeling this way, so out of control, so helpless, so cripplingly lonely and unhappy, but there was nothing he could do about it.

When his tears had run dry, he was finally able to get rid of the Sharingan. He stayed pressed against Fugaku, quivering only slightly. Fugaku didn’t hurry him, but waited patiently until it was Itachi who pushed away, taking in a shuddering breath and gathering his composure.

Fugaku studied him carefully. “Are you okay?”

Itachi shook his head.

“It will get better,” he said. “Slowly, but it will.”

Itachi stayed silent.

“You should get some sleep,” his father said, and Itachi agreed with a hesitant nod. He wiped at his eyes again, somewhat angry with himself, and wandered into the house. He didn’t go to his room. He went to Sasuke’s, looking nervously inside.

Mikoto sat on the edge of Sasuke’s bed, one hand stroking the younger’s hair, and she looked up when she felt Itachi there. Sasuke looked asleep.

Itachi edged inside, silent as ever, and Mikoto stood up, coming to meet him in the centre of the room. She said nothing, and Itachi was silently grateful for that. He allowed himself to be hugged briefly, a slightly tearful breath shuddering loose, and he bit back another sob when she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Good night, Itachi. I love you.”

He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice breaking, and so he just nodded, gulped, and stood still until she had left. He moved soundlessly to Sasuke’s side, feeling thoroughly dejected. Sasuke looked peaceful now, face set into a blissful dreamless sleep, but his eyes were slightly puffy and there were tear marks still on his face.

Itachi lay down next to him. He didn’t think he could bear sleeping alone in his bed right now. And he wanted to be with his brother, with the person in the world he loved the most. Because the other one . . . the other one had left.

Sasuke didn’t move when Itachi lay next to him, didn’t even twitch when Itachi put an arm around him. Itachi took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself to sleep. He focused on Sasuke, on the gentle rise and fall of his brother’s chest, on the lax expression on his face. His eyes burned again, even more tears pricking, and he turned his face into the pillow.

Sasuke stayed asleep, even when Itachi shook next to him in silent sobs.

 

Mikoto watched for a few minutes, to see if Itachi would come out of Sasuke’s room. When he didn’t, she turned to her own bedroom.

Fugaku was waiting, preparing for bed, with a single lamp lit and casting the room in a faint orange glow.

Mikoto did not waste time with preamble.

“Do you think Itachi killed him?” Mikoto asked softly, her eyes worried in the dim light.

Fugaku sounded very certain of his answer. “No. No, I do not.”

Mikoto nodded shortly. She agreed with him. “Why would Shisui kill himself?”

Fugaku let out a pained sigh. “To give Itachi the Mangekyou Sharingan. He’ll need its power. For . . .”

“The coup?” Mikoto guessed. “Shisui would want Itachi to stand with his clan. But there was no reason they couldn’t stand together.”

“I don’t think it was for us,” Fugaku said quietly. He drew in a deep breath. “I think it’s so Itachi can overcome us.”

A brittle silence hung between them.

“You think he’ll turn against the clan?” Mikoto said.

Fugaku nodded. “Shisui and Itachi were never on board with the coup. Shisui was working just as hard to stop it. The way he saw it, if the clan attacks Konoha, innocent people will be killed on both sides. Children,” Fugaku said meaningfully.

“Like Sasuke,” Mikoto understood. “Itachi would do anything to ensure Sasuke stayed safe.”

“Anything,” Fugaku agreed. “If Itachi attacks us, there will be no blood shed in Konoha, and innocent lives like Sasuke’s could be spared. Only we would fall.”

“A war would be prevented.”

“And there would be no collateral damage.”

“But why wouldn’t Shisui stay with Itachi, and they could do it together? The two of them are . . .” She trailed off, and corrected herself. “ _Would have been_ strong enough to do it alone.”

“Something must have happened,” Fugaku said, voice grim. “Someone must have forced Shisui’s hand.”

“Do you think Itachi will do it?” Mikoto asked, and when Fugaku looked at her, she clarified. “Attack us to save the village?”

“We will see.” He answered simply.

“Will you still ask him to fight beside you? When the coup begins, will you ask him to go against what he believes is right and stand at your side?”

“I will ask nothing more of him. Itachi has given me all I could ever need. He has surpassed all my expectations. Whatever side he chooses, whatever path he takes, I will be proud of him. But I will not burden him with more expectations. He is suffering enough.”

“Should we find ourselves against him,” Mikoto said gently. “If that happens, and what he fears becomes true, I will still be at your side. We will face everything together.”

She only wished Itachi and Shisui had been able to do the same.


	11. On My Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter dedicated to 'J'. Hope this is a good enough ending : )

“Either align with the Uchiha, launch the coup d’etat and die along with your clan . . . or side with the Leaf, save your little brother before the coup d’etat and then help us eliminate all other Uchiha. No matter what, things must be quelled before any mayhem can arise in order to protect the village.”

 

_Shisui . . . am I making the right choice? It’s hard . . . I’ve never doubted a mission so much . . . But Sasuke . . ._

_Would you have done the same? Would you guide me in the same direction?_

_I’ll save the Leaf. There won’t be a war. I’ll stop the coup. I’ll change Sasuke’s future._

_It’s what I wanted. It’s what you wanted._

_I’ve chosen my own path._

_It’s long and dark, just like you said. It’s filled with pain and suffering._

_But I won’t stray. I’ll keep moving forward._

_You gave me the strength to do anything. Even this._

_Even though I’m alone._

_Doing this without you._

_All on my own._

 

He had always been fast, and it showed now more than ever. They were trying to run, they were screaming for help. Some of them recognised him, shouted his name, begged for mercy. He froze them in place, Sharingan flashing through genjutsu – Shisui had taught him these ones, he used them now to change their thoughts. Words died in their throats, muscles locked in place.

It was easier when they didn’t run. Some of them had painless deaths, under an illusion of peace, but he couldn’t manage it for all of them. He didn’t have the stamina for that, and he needed to save his strength because the real battle would come later, once everyone else had been silenced.

He was working his way closer to his own house, methodically cutting everyone down as he needed. He had planned a route, ensuring no one was missed, and there were no survivors. They were easy to kill with the help of his Sharingan, unsuspecting and unable to overcome his power.

He was their genius after all. Their prized prodigy.

He tried not to name them as he moved through the compound. He tried to count them as numbers, not as names. Not as faces, who he knew, who he grew up with. Just numbers, and the number rose steadily. Blood hung heavy in the air, heavy on his skin.

Painless deaths could be messy; giving a merciful end often resulted in severing an artery, and even as quick as he was, he was bathed in red, but focused. There was an end to this. He would reach it.

It was just another mission.

Just numbers to count down.

“Itachi!”

He jolted to a halt at his father’s voice; unaware he had been close by. He hadn’t felt the chakra, or his mind had been muddled enough not to notice it. He tensed, expecting a fight, as they faced each other in a street paved with the bodies of their own kin, and painted crimson.

“What lies beyond this slaughter?” It was a commanding question, demanding an answer, and an honest one. Red met red, both sets of Sharingan eyes glinting. “Are you going to show me a different future to the one I showed you?”

_You showed me the Leaf at war, invaded, and hundreds would die. Sasuke would die._ His eyes narrowed slightly. “This is what I see for the future of this village, and this clan.”

_I told you I would find a way to stop it, Father. Because . . ._

“I see.” Fugaku didn’t argue. He didn’t move _. Sasuke, huh?_ With the clan gone, Sasuke was safe. Itachi had not come to this conclusion alone, though. Fugaku was certain of that. He vanished in a puff of smoke, startling Itachi.

_Shadow clone?_ Itachi swiped at the blood on his face, on edge again, because now the true battle began. _Father is the worst possible enemy for me. This is going to be a battle of Mangekyou Sharingan._

He was less experienced with his, and it had been years since he and his father had fought. Itachi had no idea what to expect, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy. _Two more_ , he thought. _It’s just numbers. Just two more._

He flickered home, _home_ for the last time ever, and edged cautiously towards the back door, all senses on high alert.

“Over here.” Fugaku’s voice came from another room. “There are no traps. Come inside.”

_No traps?_ Itachi found it hard to believe. People fighting for their lives didn’t usually leave themselves unguarded. His heart beat quickened, pulsing cold dread throughout his body.

He entered the room, ready for a surprise attack. Ready for _any_ attack, but his parents were sitting quietly, vulnerable backs turned, and a quick search proved there were no clones, no ambushes, no traps, or ill intent.

“I don’t want to participate in a death match with my son,” Fugaku said in a low voice.

The sentence floored Itachi. He paused, trying to process it through his battle-ready mind, and finding himself confused, but . . . there was a little tendril of warmth sprouting from low in his belly.

“I see,” he said, because he had to say something. His grip on his sword shook slightly.

Fugaku did not turn to look at him, and Mikoto stayed absolutely still, neither of them wanting to startle him, or make him feel trapped. “You’ve aligned with the other side.”

It was a mere observation, devoid of blame. Just the stating of a simple fact.

He wanted to explain. To tell them, _it’s the only way to save Sasuke. It’s for him, I need to save him, because he’s my baby brother . . ._ His voice shook, “Father, Mother, I . . .”

The words wouldn’t come. He wanted to speak, but it was too hard and too painful.

“We already know, Itachi,” Mikoto said, in a voice so tender, so loving, that Itachi felt something inside him hitch, stutter, and break. His breathing faltered.

Nothing needed to be explained. They knew. They understood. They wouldn’t fight back, and it hurt even more. He _wanted_ them to fight, to do something, because he deserved the heart ache and the pain, he deserved the darkness growing in his chest, his throat tightening and his eyes welling with tears.

“Itachi.” Fugaku regained his attention. “Promise me this. Take care of Sasuke.”

The tears spilled over, he fought back the sobs, gritting his teeth and trying to remain strong. He wasn’t weak, not now, not even in the hardest time of his life. And he would, he would do his best. He wouldn’t deny his parents this last request. “I will . . .”

His hands were shaking so violently; he knew they could hear it. He wanted to throw his sword down and sit with them. Just once more . . .

“Do not fear it,” Fugaku said stoically. “This is the path you’ve chosen. Compared to yours, our pain will end in an instant.”

_I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . ._ The tears dripped down, onto his trembling hands.

“Our philosophies may differ,” Fugaku continued, and Itachi blinked his eyes clear. “But I’m proud of you.”

Another sob; he wasn’t even trying to stop them anymore. He wasn’t strong enough for that. He wasn’t strong to hear those words again, to know they were true. There was sick dread in his gut, sharp as his sword and he wished he wasn’t shaking so much.

“You truly are a kind child.” _Doing what the village needs the most, even at the expense of your own happiness_ , went unsaid, but Itachi knew it was there. He understood. He didn’t want to, but he did.

His lungs grappled for air, choking sobs making it hard to breathe. The sword shook, and for a moment he was terrified he might drop it. But he kept his grip, just barely, wave after wave of nausea passing over him.

Two more.

Just two more.

His Sharingan swirled once more. _I’m so sorry . . . but . . . I can give you this. I can give you the future we wanted. I’ll . . . I’ll take all the pain away. Watch . . . I can give you both a dream . . ._

The world surrounding Fugaku and Mikoto swirled, and they both sat perfectly still and accepting.

_It won’t hurt at all, I promise. You can watch each other. Watch the world I made you._

His grip on the sword tightened. Tears fell, from his hands and face onto the floor.

_It’s a beautiful world. Shisui’s in it too._

He tensed, muscles locking into a familiar stance.

_We’re all there, and we’re all happy._

Two.

_I’m sorry I couldn’t be perfect._

One.

_I love you._

Done.

 

< The End >


End file.
